
Book 



PRESENTED BY 



A LIBRARY 

FOR 

MY YOUNG COUNTRYMEN. 

EDITED BY 
THE AUTHOR OF "UNCLE PHILIP'S CONVERSATIONS." 



VOLUME III. 

DAWNINGS OF GENIUS, 




TMM §©H®®IL ®3F 2CATTOE. 



J.Appletoii & Co.Ne-wlopk. 



DAWNINGS OF GENIUS; 



OR, 



THE EARLY LIVES 



OF SOME 



EMINENT PERSONS OF THE LAST CENTURY. 
BY ANNE PRATT, 

AUTHOR OF " FLOWERS AND THEIR ASSOCIATIONS," ETC. 



" Even the child may be known by his doings." 



NEW YORK: 
D. APPLETON & CO., 200 BROADWAY. 

PHILADELPHIA: 
GEORGE S. APPLETON, 148 CHESTNUT ST. 

MDCCCXLVI. 



PREFACE. 



The narratives contained in the following pages 
are not abridgments of the lives of the eminent 
persons to whom they relate : they present chiefly 
some account of their childhood and early youth. 
Their author has, however, endeavored in the 
course of these sketches, to give her young read- 
ers a correct impression of the character which 
the individuals severally bore in later years, and 
of the degree in which their memories are entitled 
to our respect and admiration 

It has been her aim also to show that moral 
excellence is, in many eminent instances, com- 
bined with mental greatness, giving to it its pecu- 
liar beauty and highest value. She has wished 



VI PREFACE. 

to convince the young of the importance of cul- 
tivating both the mind and the heart ; — of taking 
for their example a high standard of mental and 
moral worth; and in all things excellent she 
would recommend them to adopt the motto of 
Dr. Johnson, and " Aim at the eagle if they only 
hit the sparrow." 



CONTENTS 



Page. 
Sir Humphrey Davy 9 

Rev. George Crabbe ------ 38 

Baron Cuvier -------64 

Sir Joshua Reynolds ------ 87 

Lindley Murray 103 

The Right Honorable Sir James Mackintosh - 131 

Adam Clarke, LL. D., F. A. S., &c. &c. - - 151 



DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 



HEN we read or hear of the 
works of a great man, we 
naturally wish to know some- 
thing of himself. If he has 
made any discoveries in sci- 
ence, or written any valua- 
ble books ; or if he has ex- 
plored distant countries, or 
devoted his talents in any way to 
the service of mankind, we can- 
not rest satisfied without inquiring 
ty by what means he w r as led to 
choose his pursuit, and feel a curi- 
osity to know whether his life was a 
happy one, or whether he had to 
contend with difficulty and sorrow. 
We gladly turn from his public works to learn 
what he felt, and thought, and said in his own 
home. 




10 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

Now, if it so happens that his pursuit was one 
in which we feel any pleasure, or if his circum- 
stances seem at all like our own, this interest in 
him is increased. Every great man was once a 
child. There was a time when he knew little, 
and was dependant on the care of others for sup- 
port and direction ; there must therefore be one 
portion of his life which must resemble that of 
the youthful reader. As we grow older, w T e are 
delighted to watch the progress of the later years 
of the man of genius, and see how he gradually 
attained to public eminence ; but in childhood 
it is more pleasing to dwell upon his early days, 
and to find that there was a period when he 
played and studied, and felt and talked like other 
boys. 

The great man whose youthful life forms the 
subject of the present narrative, was one whose 
name will be honored as long as science is known. 
Perhaps no Englishman since the immortal New- 
ton has been more generally respected through- 
out Europe, for his scientific discoveries, than 
Sir Humphrey Davy : his investigations con- 
tributed to the improvement of almost every art 
and science, and he was one of the greatest 
chemical philosophers that the world ever pro- 
duced. 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 11 

It is generally understood that the business of 
a chemist is to separate and combine, in differ- 
ent ways, the various substances of which most 
of the objects around us are composed. The 
soil, the air, the water, almost everything on the 
globe, contains several parts which may be sepa- 
rated by the chemist ; and, besides this, every- 
thing about us is continually changing by a 
chemical process of nature. The leaf on the 
tree turns from green to brown, then it falls, and 
is decayed by the action of air, rain, dew, &c, 
and finally becomes a part of the soil ; all these 
changes are called chemical processes. The 
mountain and rock, the ruin of the old wall or 
tower, crumbles, through the influence of air 
and moisture, — and this too is a chemical change ; 
so that the chemical philosopher has not only to 
make experiments in-doors, with fire, and vials, 
and retorts, but to take the wide field of nature 
under his observation, and to w T atch these changes, 
and ascertain their causes, and the laws by which 
they are regulated. He must be no idle man, 
but must add to an observing eye a patience in 
making experiments, and a skill in drawing from 
them correct inferences. 

Humphrey Davy was born at Penzance in 
Cornwall, in 1778, and enjoyed that greatest of 



12 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

all the blessings of childhood, kind parents and 
a happy home. His father was chiefly occupied 
in farming, and he had some of that love of making 
experiments which afterwards distinguished his 
son. Thus he tried to improve his grass-mea- 
dows, by watering them with sea-water, and 
seems to have benefited his land by these means. 
Of Mrs. Davy it is said that " she possessed a 
most kind and affectionate heart, a pious mind, 
sound understanding, and perfect integrity." As 
might be expected of the child of intelligent and 
kind parents, young Davy very early showed his 
natural abilities. He used, when almost an in- 
fant, and long before he could read, to repeat 
little prayers, and had learned a large store of 
nursery-tales ; and no sooner was he able to read 
than he took great delight m poring over JEsop's 
Fables and the Pilgrim's Progress. The little 
boy sympathized with all the trials of the pilgrim, 
and especially delighted in the most marvellous 
portions of his adventures. Before he had suffi- 
ciently advanced in reading to understand it 
thoroughly, he used to get some one to read por- 
tions of this book to him, and he had listened so 
earnestly, and had naturally so good a memory, 
that he could repeat by heart whole pages at a 
time. Then little Humphrey would look again 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 13 

and again at the pictures, and, getting pencil and 
paper, would sit down and copy them. The 
plates which were in the old editions of the 
Pilgrim's Progress, were not like those beautiful 
illustrations which adorn the work in its present 
state, but they presented figures of grim giants, 
so horrible that one could never forget them; 
and representations of Apollyon, contending with 
a drawn sword with the pilgrim, which were 
really enough to make one tremble. But the 
pictures were not too striking or rude for the 
taste of the little reader. And, when he had 
finished copying them, he used to write the names 
of their subjects in printed letters beneath them. 
When only five years old, he made some rhymes, 
and, when a youthful party was collected at 
Christmas around the fireside, he repeated his own 
verses, dressed in a fanciful attire, made for him 
on this occasion, by a young relative. 

Young Davy was early sent to a school in the 
neighborhood, to receive the elements of educa- 
tion. Nothing was taught at this school but 
reading and writing, and in these he made such 
rapid progress that his master, who kindly cared 
more for his pupil's improvement than for his 
own interest, persuaded his parents to remove him 
to a higher school. To this seminary he was 

2 



14 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

accordingly sent, but he was not so fortunate in 
his new master as in the last ; for the gentleman 
who kept the school was very careless, and so 
uncertain in his method of managing the boys, 
that sometimes they were allowed to do exactly 
as they liked, while on other occasions they were 
severely punished for a slight offence. Humphrey 
occasionally incurred the chastisement of his tutor, 
and it was rather provoking at such times to 
hear himself addressed in the following rhymes : 

Now, Master Davy, 
Now, Sir, I have 5 e ; 
No one shall save 'e. 
Good Master Davy ; 

and to find that these words were something 
more than a mere joke, and an actual threat 
which w T as soon followed up. 

This schoolmaster was very petulant, and 
would often in his impatience pull the ears of his 
pupils. One morning young Davy appeared in 
the school-room with a large plaster placed over 
each ear, so conspicuously that it attracted the 
attention of his master, who inquired the cause 
of this. The boy gravely answered, that he had 
put plasters over his ears to prevent mortification. 

Although Humphrey Davy was known at 
school as a boy of good ability, and capable of 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 15 

performing his school-duties without difficulty, 
yet the natural energy of his mind was more 
fully displayed out of school-hours than during 
the time of study. Of a frank and generous dis- 
position, and ready at all times to express his 
feelings, he secured the confidence and affection 
of his young companions ; and they applied to 
him, not only for assistance in their English and 
Latin exercises, but especially as a clever invent- 
or of amusements. His skill in story telling de- 
lighted them, and they would listen for hours to 
the marvellous tales which he had to recount 
The boys used to resort to a spot under the bal- 
cony of the Star Inn, where, if they were so for- 
tunate as to find a cart or other carriage, they took 
possession of it, and the young orator mounted, 
and addressed his audience. Sometimes he gave 
them his own ideas upon various topics ; but 
more frequently the amusement consisted in a 
detail of adventures with fairies, or ghosts, or 
giants, or dragons. Many a tale had he to tell — 
of fairies dancing by moonlight, and leaving the 
trace of their tiny footsteps in a ring of withered 
grass in the green meadow ; or of solemn voices, 
heard in the air by the lone traveller, telling him 
of the death of distant friends, or warning him 
out of his present path by assurances of its 



16 DAWN1NGS OF GENIUS. 

danger. Some of these tales he invented at the 
time, but he had gathered many of them from 
books. The Arabian Nights was a favorite 
volume with him, but any work which related 
supernatural tales was sure to interest his atten- 
tion. He read of the Arabian genii, and the 
Persian peris, and listened to our old English 
tales of fairies, which the ancient bards of Britain 
called the Spirits of the Mountains ; and he had 
a good memory to retain all that he read and 
heard, so that he had always a stock of wonders for 
his friends. He had, when a child, a habit of quick 
reading, which he retained through life. He 
would turn over his pages with so great a rapidi- 
ty, that one might have supposed he was merely 
looking for pictures, yet, when questioned upon 
the contents of the book, would prove by his 
answers that he had read and understood it. 
Several great men have been remarkable for 
this power of understanding at a glance the con- 
tents of a work, and of Dr. Johnson it used to be 
said that " he read with his fingers' ends." It 
is a faculty also possessed by many persons of in- 
ferior mental capacity, but one which cannot be 
acquired by habit, and which ought not to be 
imitated by any one who does not feel that he 
comprehends equally well by a quick, as by a 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 17 

slow perusal of a volume. In Humphrey Davy 
it was a natural endowment, and so readily did 
he always apprehend anything, that one of his 
friends used to say to him in later life, when en- 
gaged with him in conversation, " You understand 
me before I understand myself." 

Besides the stories which young Davy collect- 
ed from books, he heard a great number from his 
grandmother. The elder Mrs. Davy was a very 
intelligent woman, but fully persuaded of the oc- 
casional appearance of ghosts, and firmly believed 
that she had herself resided in a haunted house. 
It was not wonderful that she should be thus 
superstitious, for she had lived all her life in a 
neighborhood remarkable for legends of this kind. 
The peasantry of Devonshire and Cornwall are 
peculiarly addicted to a belief in supernatural ap- 
pearances, charms, spells, &c. ; and this super- 
stition often exists even among the educated 
people of these counties, and it was more espe- 
cially the ease some years since than it is now. 
Many traditionary practices prevail in Cornwall 
among the cottagers. It was usual, even very 
lately, to put a piece of black crape on the bee- 
hives when the master of a house died ; and, if 
this was omitted, it was fancied that the bees 
would fly from the spot. This was called putting 

2* 



18 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

the bees into mourning. It is still usual in Devon- 
shire to pour out a draught of cider, at Christmas- 
time, to the best apple-tree in the orchard. Lit- 
tle invisible beings, called pixies, similar to what 
we should call fairies, are in both counties sup- 
posed to haunt the moors and woods ; though 
Mrs. Bray, who has collected a number of the 
elfin tales of Devonshire, says that they differ 
somewhat from our fairies, for that if you ask the 
cottagers what these pixies are, they tell you they 
are the souls of infants who were so unhappy as 
to die before they were baptized. However, the 
country people attribute what we call fairy rings 
to the pixies ; and if they see a light over the 
marshy grounds, which is caused by some nox- 
ious vapor, and which we call a will-o'-the-wisp, 
they term it a pixy light, held out by these little 
sprites to beguile the traveller into a bog ; while 
the domestic inconveniences often caused by the 
carelessness of the housewife, are all attributed 
to the mischief of the pixy. Many stories are 
told in the cottages, of these pixies ; and Mrs. 
Bray has given one so very beautiful that it may 
be quoted here as a specimen of a West of 
England superstition, without any fear that the 
young reader should mistake it for a fact : — 
" Near a pixy field there lived, on a time, an old 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 19 

woman who possessed a cottage and very pretty 
garden, wherein she cultivated a most beautiful 
bed of tulips. The pixies, it is traditionally 
averred, so delighted in this spot that they would 
carry their elfin babes thither, and sing them to 
rest. Often at the dead hour of night a sweet 
lullaby was heard, and strains of the most melo- 
dious music would float in the air, that seemed to 
owe their origin to no other musicians than the 
beautiful tulips themselves ; while these delicate 
flowers waved their heads to the evening breeze, 
as if they were marking time to their own sing- 
ing. When these lullabies had hushed the pixy 
babes to rest, the pixies went to dance in the 
meadow. As soon as it was light, they might 
be heard again among the flowers, kissing their 
babies, and the tulips having been thus breathed 
upon became as fragrant as roses. So delighted 
at all this was the old woman who kept the garden, 
that she never suffered a single tulip to be pluck- 
ed from its stem. At length, however, she died ; 
and the heir who succeeded her, destroyed the 
enchanted flowers, and converted the spot into 
a parsley-bed, a circumstance which so disap- 
pointed and offended the pixies, that they caused 
it to wither away, and indeed, for many years, 
nothing would grow on the beds of the whole 



20 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

garden. But these sprites, though eager in re- 
senting an injury, were, like most warm spirits, 
equally capable of returning a benefit ; and if 
they destroyed the produce of the good old wo- 
man's garden, w T hen it had fallen into unworthy 
hands, they tended the bed that wrapt her clay 
with affectionate solicitude ; for they were heard 
lamenting and singing sweet dirges around her 
grave. Nor did they neglect to pay this mourn- 
ful tribute to her memory every night before the 
moon was at the full ; for then their high solem- 
nity of dancing, singing, and rejoicing took place, 
to hail the queen of the night, on completing her 
silver circle in the skies. No human hand ever 
tended the grave of the poor old woman who 
had nurtured the tulip-bed for the delight of these 
elfin creatures, but no rank weed was ever seen 
to grow upon it ; the sod was ever green, and 
the prettiest flowers would spring up, without 
sowing or planting, and so they continued to do, 
till it was supposed the mortal body was reduced 
to its original dust." 

Many a wild legend similar to this is to be 
heard in the cottages at the west of England; 
and Mrs. Davy had, in her lifetime, learned a 
number of fairy-tales and ghost-stories, which 
she used to tell to her little grandson. He was 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 21 

the oldest child in the family, and consequently 
her favorite companion. She had told him, that 
twice in her life she had been visited by appari- 
tions, and the playful boy could not resist an 
attempt at a practical joke on his kind friend. 
One evening, when the old lady was sitting in the 
twilight, musing over her parlor fire, she was 
startled by a w T hite figure which issued from a 
cupboard in the room, stalked across the parlor, 
and went out at the door. This was Humphrey, 
who had provided himself with a sheet, and, thus 
disguised, made his unexpected appearance. 
His scheme was quite successful, for when he 
afterwards went back to the room, his grand- 
mother told him of the visitation of the ghost, 
and described his actions ; and then began won- 
dering what it could portend, and calculated 
upon events which must be about to happen, — 
to the great delight of her mischievous young 
visiter. 

We need not censure young Davy for a child- 
ish frolic ; yet none ought to imitate it, as a sud- 
den fright has sometimes deprived persons of 
their senses, or even of their lives. It is not 
until we have lived longer in the world, and have 
seen the effects of sudden fear, or have been told 
of them, that we can be expected to be aware 



22 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

of its danger ; but the kind-hearted lad would 
indeed have been dismayed had he seen his ven- 
erable relative injured by his thoughtlessness; 
and, had the good lady been naturally timid, this 
would most likely have been the case. 

It might be supposed that if the future philoso- 
pher showed in early life much of the character 
which distinguished his manhood, that he would 
have been a more suitable companion for older 
persons than for those of boyish habits and boy- 
ish years. But the active energies of a child are 
generally directed to childish pursuits ; although 
the choice of these may often indicate the em- 
ployments of his future days. Thus young Davy 
excelled among his companions as a maker of 
fire- works. He used to take his sister as an as- 
sistant in this manufacture ; and, getting into an 
unfurnished room belonging to Mr. Tonkin, a 
kind friend of the family, they would there com- 
pound the squibs and rockets which were to 
sparkle in the nightly exhibition. In this room 
was placed a chamber-horse, a kind of chair made 
on springs for the exercise of invalids, and this 
chair was soon converted into a table ; it served 
also to hold the ingredients for a detonating 
powder, which Humphrey called thunder-powder, 
and which, when completed, was taken out and 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 23 

exploded on a stone, to the wonder of his school- 
fellows. As might be expected, the young 
philosopher sometimes forgot that his sister's 
dress was made of more frail materials than his 
own, and now and then disfigured it with a few 
rents and unseemly stains, but they were both 
too earnest in their pursuit to be discouraged by 
slight misadventures. 

One of the chief recreations in which, in after 
life, Sir Humphrey Davy indulged, was that of 
fishing. He used to take so much pleasure in 
this amusement, that Dr. Paris says of him that, 
when at table, on whatever subject the conver- 
sation commenced, it was sure to turn on fishing. 
From this he would go on to a most enthusiastic 
description of mountains, rivers, and other por- 
tions of natural scenery ; or dwell with delight 
on the means by which he had taken the fish. 
When rallied on his fondness for this sport, he 
would say, " It is not the sport only (though there 
is a great pleasure in successful dexterity), but 
it is the ardor of pursuit, the pure air, the con- 
templation of a fine country, the exercise, — all 
of which invigorate the body and excite the mind 
to its best efforts." The records in his Diary 
show that even his amusement was regarded as 
a means of improvement, as he there wrote his 



24 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

remarks on fish, birds, &c., and described their 
species, habits, and many facts connected with 
natural history. He used, when on a fishing ex- 
cursion, to dress himself in green clothes, with 
boots made of Indian rubber, that he might wade 
through mud, and in a hat like that of a coal- 
heaver, which he dyed green, and round which 
were stuck his artificial flies. The reason of this 
attire was, that he thought a green dress was 
least likely to attract the attention of the fish. 

When a very little child, this taste for angling 
showed itself, for he would stand by the gutter 
in the street, with a miniature fishing-rod, made 
of a piece of stick, to which a crooked pin was 
tied by a thread, and there imitate the motions 
of those whom he had seen at the river or sea- 
side. When very young, he w T as renowned 
among his companions for his skill with the 
angle ; and one who associated with him during 
childhood says, " I have known him to catch 
gray mullet at the pier at Penzance when none 
of us could succeed." Sir Humphrey afterwards 
wrote a work upon this his favorite sport, which 
bore the title of " Salmonia, or Days of Fly- 
fishing." 

All kinds of out-door amusements pleased the 
active boy, for he used to work hard in a little 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 25 

garden of his own, and took much pains in culti- 
vating and improving it. As soon as he was old 
enough to carry a gun, away he wandered with 
it over his arm, taking a skilful aim at the poor 
little birds which hovered in the air, and which 
were destined to enrich his museum ; for, when 
they dropped, he took them home and examined 
them, then employed his evenings in stuffing or 
painting them, so that he early acquired a good 
collection of British birds. 

Thus alternately occupied in preparing his 
lessons for school, and in enjoying himself at 
home, young Davy's life passed with little inter- 
ruption, until he was nine years of age, when 
his parents left Penzance to reside at Varfell, 
near Mount's Bay, about two and a half miles 
from their former residence. He then remained 
with his friend Mr. Tonkin ; but, having a little 
pony to ride, he used frequently to go backwards 
and forwards from Varfell to Penzance, with his 
gun or his fishing-rod ready for sport, if the op- 
portunity occurred. His brother, Dr. John Davy, 
thinks that, by riding alone so often over one of 
the most beautiful spots of his native county, he 
acquired that taste for scenery, and general love 
of nature, which, next to religion and virtue, may 
be counted among the greatest sources of human 

3 



26 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

enjoyments. When about fourteen years of age, 
he was removed to a school at Truro, under the 
care of Dr. Cardew, where he remained one year, 
and where he gained a good character by his at- 
tention to study, and was still the beloved com- 
panion of his school-fellows. It is probable that 
he employed the same methods for their enter- 
tainment which he practised at Penzance ; for 
so fond was he always of speaking, that when he 
could not secure any listeners, he would arrange 
the chairs of the room into a circle, and pour out 
his eloquence to his insensible assembly. The 
first year after his leaving school was passed in a 
desultory manner. It was spent with Mr. Ton- 
kin, and the youth seems to have been left almost 
at liberty to choose his own pursuits : thus one idle 
year occurred in the life of one, who, in man- 
hood, never spent an idle hour. It sometimes 
happens to a youth that an unexpected event 
rouses up the dormant faculties of his character ; 
the boy suddenly starts into the man ; the child, 
hitherto either guided by others, or following 
only his own impulses, becomes at once a being 
of thought and determination, and shapes for him- 
self his future course in life. The death of his 
father roused up the energy of young Davy, and 
the grief and anxiety of his mother awakened 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 27 

his kind and manly feelings ; and with earnest- 
ness he entreated her not to grieve, for that he 
would take care of his brothers and sisters. 

.As soon as Mrs. Davy had recovered the dis- 
tress occasioned by the death of her husband, she 
apprenticed her son to Mr. Borlase, afterwards 
Dr. Borlase, then a surgeon in Penzance. Young 
Davy immediately commenced his studies ; and 
the note-books in which he recorded his observa- 
tions at this time, show that his mind was occu- 
pied on subjects, which are rarely considered in- 
teresting by a youth of his age. These were, 
thoughts on the immortality of the soul, and the 
thinking powers of the mind 5 on the structure 
of the body, and on friendship ; mingled with 
short poems and plans of future works of prose 
or poetry, of which his native Cornwall was to 
have been the scene. 

From this period his studies were regularly 
and diligently pursued ; they were chiefly such 
as related to his profession ; but it was not until 
he was eighteen years of age, that his attention 
was directed to chemistry. In the course of his 
professional reading, he perused the works of some 
eminent chemists ; and from that time till the 
close of life, his mind was ever intent upon this 
science. When he first entered upon this study, 



28 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

he had nothing of a scientific apparatus at his 
command ; but his fertile invention led him to 
convert to his purposes, vials, tea-cups, tobacco- 
pipes, wine-glasses, or anything of the kind within 
his reach. The only place in which he could 
carry on his experiments, was his bed-room in 
Mr. Tonkin's house, and as he had no fire there, 
he was obliged to go down to the kitchen when- 
ever he wanted heat. Sometimes he produced 
an explosion, which resounded through the house, 
when Mr. Tonkin would say in a joke, " This 
boy Humphrey is incorrigible ! was there ever 
so idle a dog ? he will blow us all into the air !" 
Yet even then Mr. Tonkin felt proud of the talents 
of his young friend, and very often called him 
the young philosopher, or addressed him as Sir 
Humphrey, as if in anticipation of the honor 
which should one day be conferred on him. 

Chemistry now occupied so much of young 
Davy's attention, that he had little leisure or in- 
clination to attend to some other parts of his 
medical studies, yet he always acted so as to 
gain the approbation of Dr. Borlase, and the 
warm affection of the family. It is delightful to 
contemplate the character of a youth, mingling 
an ardor for science, and talents destined to bene- 
fit the world, with the kindest and most affec- 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 29 

tionate feelings, and an open and generous dis- 
position. The father of Dr. Borlase, who resided 
in the house, was an invalid \ and so kindly had 
Humphrey at all times behaved to him, that he 
always liked to take his medicine from his hands ; 
and whenever the youth entered the room, the 
countenance of the old gentleman was immedi- 
ately lighted by a smile ; he forgot for a moment 
even his pain, in the presence of one ever ready 
to relieve or sympathize with it, or to cheer him 
by acts of tenderness, or pleasing conversation. 

The young philosopher never lost his love of 
lecturing, but would often speak aloud when 
there were none to listen. Like the ancient ora- 
tor, Demosthenes, he would declaim by the sea- 
shore, and exalt his voice above the loud music 
of the waters; perhaps hoping to acquire a 
strength and firmness of tone, against the time 
when he should address large assemblies, or per- 
haps from the mere pleasure of giving audible 
utterance to his sentiments and feelings. One 
day when he was going into the country to visit 
a poor patient, he commenced an oration in a 
field through which he had to pass, and in the 
warmth of his emotions threw out of his hand 
a bottle of medicine which he was to have car- 
ried to the invalid. When he came to the bed- 

3* 



30 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

side of the poor woman, he was surprised to find 
that it was missing ; and the next day the vial 
was found in the hay-field, which had been the 
scene of his oratorical earnestness. 

A short extract from the papers written at 
this period by young Davy will exhibit some- 
thing of his character. He says, " I have neither 
riches, nor power, nor birth, to recommend me ; 
yet if I live, I trust I shall not be of less ser- 
vice to mankind, and to my friends, than if I had 
been born with these advantages." A noble 
wish, which this great man lived fully to accom- 
plish. 

It is not the intention of this narrative to fol- 
low out the history of the philosopher beyond 
his early youth. At the age of twenty, Dr 
Borlase, seeing his promising talents, gave up 
the remaining year of his apprenticeship, in order 
that he might superintend a pneumatic institution 
at Clifton ; and at this age Mr. Davy left his 
home to enter upon the responsible engagements 
of public life. He soon saw himself in the way 
to honor, and a competent fortune, and immedi- 
ately that he found he could maintain himself, he 
generously gave up his own portion of his father's 
property to his mother and sisters. He gradual- 
ly rose to eminence : his lectures were received 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 31 

with most enthusiastic applause ; his assistance 
and friendship were sought by the most cele- 
brated men of his time ; and, in 1812, the Prince 
Regent bestowed 6n him the honor of knight- 
hood, — an honor, which he said he valued chiefly, 
because it had been borne by the greatest philoso- 
pher of the world, Sir Isaac Newton. 

In the midst of the most arduous pursuit of 
science, and even when arrived at the highest 
eminence of fame, Sir Humphrey never was un- 
mindful of his mother, never forgot his early 
home ; and his letters to, Mrs. Davy speak highly 
both for the filial affection of the son, and the 
amiableness and intelligence of the mother, who 
could fully enter into his attainments and feel- 
ings. The first time that he visited home after 
having left it, he wrote a letter to announce his 
coming, and, in his eagerness for the meeting, 
set off immediately after. He would have actu- 
ally arrived at Varfell before the post had con- 
veyed the promise of his coming, had he not 
been detained in the neighborhood by his aunt, 
who feared that his sudden appearance might 
alarm his family. In 1800, he says in a letter 
home, after referring tr past events : — " Little 
did I then think that I should ever be so long 
absent from the place of my birth, as to feel 



34 



DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 



given, relates to the celebrated discovery of this 
great man, that flint is to be found in the delicate 
stem of the grass which makes our spring mea- 
dows so beautiful, or fringes the borders of our 
rural streams. Our philosopher had been told 
by a gentleman, that his little boy had seen some 
sparks of fire proceed from some bonnet cane 
when he rubbed two pieces together. Mr. Davy 
therefore took two pieces of cane into a dark 
place, and rubbed them quickly against each 
other, w T hen he perceived that they emitted sparks 
of white light ; and that if he struck the two 
pieces quickly together, the sparks became more 
brilliant. Now any intelligent person might 
have taken the pains to try this, but many would 
content themselves with saying, " This is singu- 
lar," and think no more of the matter. The 
patience and skill of the philosopher were shown 
in the farther process. Mr. Davy thought much 
of this circumstance, and wondered what could 
be the cause of the light ; then he tried several 
experiments that he might ascertain it. First, 
he struck the cane against a piece of wood, but 
no light was seen ; then he struck it on flint, and 
again on steel, and he found that in both cases 
a brilliant light followed. From this, Mr. Davy 
inferred that there must be a portion of flint in 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 35 

the cane, and that it was probably near the sur- 
face, and he found this to be the case ; for on 
peeling off the skin of the cane, and again strik- 
ing it, no light was to be seen. He next, by a 
chemical process, separated the different sub- 
stances which composed the bark of the cane, 
and ascertained that it certainly contained flint. 
Now, after all this pains, he began to reason 
from the fact. He considered that as flint was 
to be found in bonnet-cane, he should perhaps 
find it in other canes. He therefore subjected 
the bamboo and sugar-canes to a similar process, 
and found that they too contained flint. Then 
he recollected that the reeds which grow by the 
river-side, and the wheat, and oats, and grass of 
our fields, were much like cane, and might pos- 
sess it too ; and he found by experiments, that 
he had reasoned rightly. Mr. Davy knew that 
everything in nature has been planned for a par- 
ticular purpose, by the God who placed it there ; 
he therefore next considered of what use this flint 
could be to the canes and grasses. He at length 
was fully convinced, that it was of the same use 
to the plant, as the bone is to the animal, giving 
it firmness and preserving its shape ; and that by 
its being placed so near the outer part of the 



36 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

plant, it secured the vessels from external inju- 
ries. 

It would be impossible in a work of this de- 
scription to give even a sketch of the benefits 
conferred on agriculture, tanning, dyeing, garden- 
ing, and various other manufactures and arts, by 
the discoveries of Sir Humphrey Davy ; yet the 
most valuable of all his inventions must not be 
passed over in silence. Thousands of men owe 
their lives to his safety-lamp, used for preventing 
explosion in mines, and other places liable to such 
dangers. There is in mines a portion of infl am- 
mable air, which, when it is in great quantity, 
and becomes mixed in certain proportion with 
common air, will explode if a candle or lamp is 
carried into it, and destroy everything near it. 
The poor men in the mine are suffocated, or 
thrown to a distance, and much injured, if not 
killed, by the blow ; the horses suffer the same 
fate, and machinery and other property are bro- 
ken and rendered useless. The subject of fire- 
damp had employed the attention of the greatest 
philosophers, but no invention had been made, 
which could secure the miners from its dreadful 
evils, until Sir Humphrey Davy, after much rea- 
soning upon facts which he had ascertained, and 
experiments which he had made in science, su - 



SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. 37 

ceeded in forming his lamp. This is a kind of 
cage of wire-gauze, and it has proved an inesti- 
mable blessing to the workers in mines, by whom 
it is called the Davy. A very valuable service 
of plate was presented to Sir Humphrey, at 
Newcastle, as a testimony of public gratitude ; 
and the Emperor of Russia w T rote him a letter, 
and presented him with a gold vase on the oc- 
casion ; and, anxious as was the philosopher that 
every one of his labors should be of service to 
mankind, perhaps this fulfilment of his wishes 
was one of the happiest occurrences of his life. 

This great man ended his days at Geneva, on 
May 29, 1829, and was interred in the burying- 
ground outside the city, where a simple monu- 
ment was raised by Lady Davy to his memory. 




REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 



HEN we hear of public ben- 
efactors, our minds perhaps 
at first recur to those who 
have founded the civil and 
humane institutions which 
are an honor to our country; 
or we may think of those, 
who, as statesmen, have man- 
aged its affairs with judgment and 
rectitude ; or of men who have 
defended us from our enemies ; or 
of others who have visited the 
prisons of the land, and sought 
out and relieved the sufferings of the 
captive. These are all benefactors ; 
these are entitled to public gratitude, 
and to the grateful recollection of every individ- 
ual ; and cold-hearted must he be, who could 
think upon their works without interest, or re- 
gard their persons with indifference. 

But there is a class of benefactors, who, no 




REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 39 

less than these, have contributed to the general 
good, — those who have instructed and charmed 
us by their writings, and among these we must 
reckon the poets. Poetry is not only a delight- 
ful solace to the weary mind, it is a valuable 
source of instruction. It often teaches us useful 
lessons, in a form which enables us to remember 
them ; for who cannot repeat verses which he 
learned many years ago, even though his memory 
is not stored with a page of prose- writing ? 
Poetry carries our thoughts away for a while from 
the concerns of every-day life, and bids them 
dwell upon the past or the future ; and it fills the 
mind with generous sentiments, which serve to 
correct the selfishness which the world might 
teach us. 

" Blessings be on them, and eternal praise, 
Who gave us nobler hopes and nobler cares, 
The poets." 

Often is poetry made the means of exciting 
our attention to nature, to the clouds and stars, 
and hills, and streams, and flowers, leading us 
to appreciate and enjoy all that is beautiful of 
earth or sky ; or it lays before us the feelings of 
the human heart, in its most secret joys or sor- 
rows, teaching us to understand and sympathize 
with them. Sometimes, too, the poet's strains, 



40 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

like those of the sweet singer of Israel, lift our 
hearts above the world before us, to the world 
on high, and bear our gratitude and love to Him 
who inspired the sublimest poetry that was ever 
penned — the poetry of the Scriptures. 

Poets, like other writers, have sometimes per- 
verted their talents, and done evil instead of 
good ; but the subject of this narrative was one 
whose poems were always favorable to religion 
and virtue. He has been called u the poet of the 
poor/' for many of his tales relate the scenes of 
humble life ; and Lord Byron used to say of him, 
that he w r as " Nature's sternest painter, yet the 
best." This remark refers not to his painting of 
natural scenery, of which there is comparatively 
little in Crabbe's writings, but to his descriptions 
of human life and character, which are given 
with great truth, though sometimes, from their 
very truthfulness, his tales contain details of a 
very painful character. 

The father of George Crabbe was a w r are- 
housekeeper and collector of the salt duties, at 
Aldborough, and George, the eldest son, was born 
in 1764. The poet's mother was a kind and 
gentle woman, and from her he inherited a deli- 
cate constitution and a mild temper. The father 
was a man of violent and overbearing character, 



REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 41 

and was in the habit of putting himself into pas- 
sions, which used to terrify George, and would 
have rendered his early home miserable, had not 
his mother been there to cheer and sooth him by 
her tenderness. Aldborough was not at that time, 
as it now is, a respectable and cheerful-looking 
town, but was a dull and less populous place, the 
chief inhabitants being fishermen or persons con- 
nected with the sea ; and the early associates of 
George Crabbe were not refined and well-edu- 
cated children, but were the sailors, who walked 
up and down the beach, or their untaught sons, 
who spent their time, as boys do on the coast, 
in playing about among the boats, or digging 
holes in the sand, or paddling up to their knefes 
in the water. Lads of this description are gen- 
erally coarse and rough in their manners, though 
often frank and kind-hearted ; but it could not 
have been expected that a youth reared among 
them, and accustomed to hear bad language and 
to witness vice, would have early shown refined 
feelings and a poetical character. 

Mr. Crabbe, in addition to his employment as 
salt-master, had a share in a fishing-boat, and he 
used often to go out on the sea, fishing, accom- 
panied by his sons. The younger boys were 
much interested in the employment, and could 

4* 



42 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS 

give their father some help ; but the oldest was 
by no means expert in his occupation. His 
father sometimes became very impatient at his 
awkwardness, and would say, " That boy must 
be a fool ! John and Bob and Will are of some 
use about a boat, but what will that thing ever 
be good for V 9 When this vessel was first pur- 
chased, Mr. Crabbe took out a party of neighbors 
to try its sailing, and his wife prevailed on him 
to let George go with them. This excursion 
was the subject of much conversation beforehand, 
and the little boy's heart was full of anticipation 
of the promised pleasure. Many years after- 
wards, on referring to this long-remembered holy- 
day, he thus describes it : — 

" Sweet was the morning's breath, the inland tide, 
And our boat gliding where alone could glide 
Small craft — and they oft touch'd on either side. 
It was my first-born joy, 1 heard them say, 
6 Let the child go, he will enjoy the day ;* 
For children ever feel delighted, when 
They take their portion, and enjoy with men. 
The linnet chirp'd upon the furze as well, 
To my young sense, as chirps the nightingale." 

Crabbe had very little early instruction. His 
first teacher was an old woman near, who taught 
the little ones in the neighborhood to read ; and 
with her, the quiet, gentle child was a great fa- 



REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 43 

vorite, for he did not need that she should toil 
over his lessons, as learning was little labor to 
him. He remembered her kindness in late years, 
and thus writes of her : — 

" Can I mine ancient widow pass unmoved ? 
Shall I not think what pains the matron took 
When first I trembled o'er the gilded book ? 
How she, all patient, both at eve and morn, 
Her needle pointed at the guarding horn, 
And how she soothed me when, with study sad, 
I labored on to reach the final zad \" 

But the schoolmistress was not the only ancient 
matron of Aldborough at whose fireside young 
Crabbe found a ready welcome. His delicate 
constitution and natural mildness of disposition 
made him quite a contrast to the more boisterous 
lads of the small town ; and he frequently spent 
his evenings with the dames who lived round 
about, and who were pleased to find so quiet a 
companion, and attentive listener to the tales 
which they had to tell of other days, — sad tales 
of shipwrecks and rude blasts and overwhelming 
storms. Then they had a store of simple ballads 
which he read aloud to them, and which they 
did not tire of hearing, though he read them 
again and again : and when the little boy had 
read some strains which moved him to tears, he 



44 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS, 

would lay them by and hearken to stories of 
ghosts which they believed they had seen 5 or 
marvel at dreams which, to their belief, had all 
come true, though they had predicted things 
which the relators declared they should never 
have thought of. But, besides the poems be- 
longing to others, he had a store which was his 
own peculiar treasure, and which had been cut 
out of a book that his father took in, in numbers. 
This was a periodical work, called Martin's 
Philosophical Magazine, and each number had 
at the end a few verses, which, as Mr. Crabbe 
considered them quite useless, he always took 
out and gave to George, when the numbers were 
sent to be bound. The poetry was of a very in- 
ferior sort, but the rhyme pleased the unpractised 
ear of the boy, and led him to make several at- 
tempts at writing verses. He was well known 
by the boys of his own age to be fond of reading. 
One day he happened to offend a stout lad in the 
street, and the youth was just about doubling his 
fist to inflict a revenge upon him, when a young 
comrade, who was coming by, interfered and 
saved George from a beating by saying, " You 
must not meddle with him. Let him alone, for 
he has got learning." 

The father of young Crabbe, although a man 



REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 



45 



of rude and seafaring habits, had good natural 
talents. He was particularly skilled in mathe- 
matical calculations, and was often applied toby 
his neighbors at Aldborough, as a ready calcu- 
lator. He plainly saw that his eldest son had 
powers of mind far beyond those possessed gen- 
erally by children of his age; and he determined 
to make a great effort to give him an education. 
George was therefore sent to a boarding-school 
at Bungay, on the borders of Norfolk. It was 
the first time he had ever left his mother, and 
with a sad heart the little boy bade her adieu, 
and found himself placed amongst strangers. 
The first few days at school are often painful to 
a timid child. A new instructer, strange com- 
panions, and unusual lessons, together with rules 
and ceremonies to which he has never been ac- 
customed, combine to make the school-room seem 
a strange world, in which he shall never feel at 
home ; and though the young schoolboy had not 
left so pleasant a home as those of many of his 
companions, still he had been much indulged by 
his mother. There was not either, in Crabbe, any 
of those ardent and high spirits which lead a boy 
to encounter difficulties with cheerfulness, but he 
had a peculiar helplessness, and did not even 
know how to dress himself. Morning; had al- 



46 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

ways brought his mother to his bedside, not only 
to wake him but to assist him ; and on the first 
day after his arrival at school, George, seeing the 
other children in the room beginning to dress, 
whispered timidly to the little boy who slept next 

him, " Master G , can you put on your shirt ? 

— for — for — I'm afraid I cannot." 

An event befell Crabbe, while at this school, 
which had nearly deprived his parents of their 
child, and the world of a poet. Several of the 
boys, George among the number, had displeased 
their master by playing at soldiers, contrary to 
orders, and were placed as a punishment in a 
large dog-kennel in the yard, which was called 
the black-hole. George was sent in first, and 
was followed by so many of his companions that 
the atmosphere became so close, that those who 
were the farthest in, could scarcely breathe. 
The poor boy screamed aloud, declaring that he 
should be suffocated ; and finding that no attempt 
was made to release him, he, in his distress, bit 
violently the hand of the boy nearest him. The 
boy, terrified at his violence, shrieked out, " Crabbe 
is dying — Crabbe is dying," which induced the 
person outside to open the door, when the boys 
rushed into the air. Had they remained one 



REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 47 

minute longer in this position, Crabbe must have 
fallen a victim to this foolish punishment. 

When George was about eleven or twelve 
years of age, his father thought it time to con- 
sider what employment he was to follow. If he 
had consulted only his own circumstances, he 
would at once have taken his son from school, for 
be could ill afford the expense of his farther edu- 
cation. He felt, however, considerable pride in 
the abilities of his boy, and thinking him destined 
to occupy a respectable station in the world, he 
determined to bring him up for a surgeon. This 
w T as certainly a kind resolve ; but the struggles 
with poverty which the young man had after- 
wards to endure, must convince us that it was 
not a wise one. In pursuance of his plan, Mr. 
Crabbe now removed his son to a higher school, 
kept by a Mr. Haddon, who was an excellent 
mathematician ; and as George had much of his 
father's skill in calculation, he made a very re- 
spectable figure among his class-mates. His 
father would often send difficult mathematical 
questions to Mr. Haddon to be resolved, and it 
sometimes happened, to his great joy, that George 
was able to find the answers. Meantime the 
young scholar did not lose his early love for 
poetry, nor neglect to try his own pen at its 



48 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

composition. Some little girls used to assemble 
at Mr. Haddon's school of evenings to learn 
writing. One of these had lately had a new 
trimming to her straw bonnet, and appeared 
among her companions in all the pride of blue 
ribands. George saw, or fancied, that the little 
maiden exalted herself upon this piece of finery, 
and addressed some verses to her, giving excel- 
lent cautions against setting her heart too much 
on blue ribands. 

Young Crabbe continued with Mr. Haddon 
about two years, when he was taken home, to 
remain until his friends should hear of a surgeon 
who wanted an apprentice. Weeks and months 
passed, and no suitable situation could be obtain- 
ed, while his father required his assistance in the 
warehouse or the quay, in occupations which he 
greatly disliked. Sometimes he would steal 
away from them to loiter on the beach, looking 
at the waves as they rolled after each other to 
the spot where he stood ; or watching the sea- 
birds, as they dipped into the waters, and, shaking 
the spray from their wings, bounded away, and 
the low-spirited boy wished that he could follow 
them. Many hours were spent on the shore in 
solitary musings and mournful thoughts of the 
present and future, or in roving along the marshy 



REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 49 

borders, gathering the samphire, or the thrift, or 
the sea lavender, or the few other plants which 
enlivened the dreary scene. He early learned to 
love plants — he knew their names and proper- 
ties — and sometimes returned from his rambles, 
cheered by the thought of having found some 
specimen which he had never seen before. His 
botanical pursuits were dear to him now, and 
never through life did he lose his early taste for 
botany ; for much of his time out of doors was 
spent in gathering and examining the plants 
which are scattered over the uncultured fields or 
lanes of the country. 

At length a surgeon at Wickham Brook ad- 
vertised for an apprentice, and it was arranged 
that George should remove thither. Wickham 
Brook is a small village near Bury St. Edmund's, 
and the youth had no kind friends to go with him, 
and see him beneath the ~cof of his new master. 
He was sent the first part of the journey under 
the care of two farmers, and the last ten miles 
he had to go alone — sad thoughts his only 
company. 

His late residence at home had not tended to 
give him cheerful views of life. Again he part- 
ed from his kind mother with a heavy heart, and 
tired and depressed, he reached the surgeon's 

5 



50 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

house. Here his sensitive spirit had to endure a 
new mortification. When the door was opened, 
his master's two daughters came to look at him, 
and, having stared at him earnestly for a few 
moments, one of them burst into a loud laugh, 
and exclaimed, " La ! here comes our new 'pren- 
tice !" This ridicule, at a time when his heart 
was full, made such an impression upon Crabbe, 
that he never forgot it ; though he used after- 
wards to say that his appearance could not have 
been very elegant, as he wore a scratch wig to 
cover the head, which had, on account of a recent 
illness, been shorn of its naturally brown curls. 

His new situation w T as one in which the youth 
ought to have had some advantages for gaining 
a knowledge of his profession, but he soon found 
that he had little leisure here for study, and re- 
ceived little instruction from his master. The 
surgeon had a farm la the neighborhood, and 
" our new 'prentice" was taught that he was ex- 
pected to attend as much to agriculture, as to 
surgery and medicine ; and the time which should 
have been spent in informing his mind, was em- 
ployed in bodily labor. He had, too, for his 
companion and bedfellow his master's plough- 
boy ; and to one who had by nature superior 
mental powers, and whose acquaintances had 



EEV. GEORGE CRABEE. 51 

lately been the youths at a boarding-school, this 
circumstance was painfully humiliating. 

One day George joined a company of boys 
who went to a public-house in the village to see 
some tricks performed by a conjurer. The man, 
during the exhibition of his wonders, quoted a 
Latin sentence, adding, " And I suppose none of 
you can tell me what that means." Crabbe as- 
serted that he could translate it ; when the man, 
looking contemptuously at his dress, which w T as 
of a mean description, said, " I suppose you pick- 
ed up your Latin in a turnip-field." The boys 
all laughed heartily ; but Crabbe, nothing daunt- 
ed by this joke, rendered the sentence in English, 
and received from the conjurer a very patronising 
approval of his learning. 

But the years of his apprenticeship were 
passing away, and the young surgeon was ac- 
quiring little of that knowledge by which he 
hoped one day to maintain a respectable station 
in society. Fortunately for him, however, he 
was removed, when in his seventeenth year, to 
Woodbridge, to the house of another surgeon, a 
Mr. Page. Here he had not only much greater 
means of improvement in his profession, but had 
also the advantage of the society of several gen- 
tlemen and literary youths of the place. He con 



52 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

tinued occasionally to write verses, which gained 
him some reputation in the town where he lived, 
and were well received by his friends. Many of 
his poems were addressed to Miss Sarah Elmy, 
a young lady with whom he became acquainted 
at Woodbridge, and whom, many years after- 
ward, he married ; and he also contrived by some 
means to publish about this time a poem called 
"Inebriety." A prize having been offered by 
the editors of the Lady's Magazine for the best 
poem on Hope, the genius of our young poet re- 
ceived a fresh impulse : he wrote and gained the 
reward, and from this time he was continually 
writing, as his biographer says, "upon every 
occasion and without occasion." Here too he 
studied botany, reading frequently the works of 
authors upon this science, and making himself 
practically acquainted with plants during his 
rambles in the neighborhood. The years spent 
at Woodbridge were the happiest of young 
Crabbe's early life. He had formed friendships 
among those whose habits and pursuits were 
similar to his own ; he had had leisure for study, 
and some opportunity for practice in his profes- 
sion ; and, what must have been cheering to his 
heart, his poetical genius had been acknowledged 
and valued by those who were competent to judge 



REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 53 

of literary performances. But time, which stands 
not still for the gay or for the sad, brought his 
apprenticeship to an end. He had, of course, ex- 
pected that when his period of study with this 
surgeon had expired, that his father would have 
"been able to complete his education by sending 
him to walk the hospital ; but, alas ! the expense 
for this could not be afforded, and the disap- 
pointed young man reluctantly returned to his 
humble home. Even here he could not be main- 
tained in idleness, and no resource remained but 
to go back to the labors of the warehouse. 
These were now more distasteful to him than 
ever. He had acquired a love of literature and 
refined society, which unfitted him for mixing 
with the rude company of the quay, and he in- 
dulged in a fretfulness and irritability, very un- 
like his usual character, and which served but to 
make his situation more gloomy. His father's 
temper was also increasingly violent; he had 
become a frequent visiter at the alehouse, and 
Crabbe had besides to witness the daily declining 
health of his affectionate mother. George was 
her constant friend, and tried by every means to 
lessen her sufferings, but his medical knowledge 
could do nothing for her complaint, while it con- 
vinced him that death would soon deprive him 

5* 



54 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

of her love. His daily employment was to catch 
for her supper a few small fish, called " buts," 
which were almost the only food the invalid 
could take ; and his heart failed him when he 
sometimes saw his father, in the height of his pas- 
sion, throw the dishes and plates about the room, 
which the afflicted son would have gladly ren- 
dered a scene of comfort and repose to his sick 
mother. 

Many a weary night and day did Crabbe 
spend now at Aldborough. His hopes of suc- 
cess in life had almost failed, and he could find 
little time to pursue his medical studies. Some- 
times he turned from the thoughts of his blighted 
prospects, to his favorite pursuit of botany ; or his 
attention was directed to other parts of natural 
history, and he examined the stones which lay 
about his path, with the interest of a geologist. 
One day, when engaged in piling up the goods 
of the warehouse, a young man with whom he 
had associated at Woodbridge, and who was 
now in practice there as a surgeon, came over 
to Aldborough. lie saw George at his employ- 
ment on the quay, and despising him for an in- 
dustry which in Cr abbe's circumstances was com- 
mendable, he haughtily said to him, " Follow me, 
sir." George accompanied him, and the proud 



REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 55 

young man angriiy remonstrated with him for 
pursuing such an occupation, urging him imme- 
diately to quit it ; but George, though unhappy, 
could not be prevailed upon to be undutiful, and 
firmly refused to act in a way which might dis- 
please his parents. 

To those who are happy, and whose buoyancy 
of spirit has never been subdued by disappoint- 
ment, this may seem a trifling incident ; yet the 
few haughty words spoken by this young man 
sunk heavily upon the wounded heart of him 
to whom they were addressed. There are some 
trials in life which no kindness can avert ; but 
when we remember how much their bitterness 
may be increased by unkind remarks, and how 
few sorrows there are which sympathy cannot 
soften, we ought surely to avoid giving pain by 
our thoughtlessness. Often does he who attempts 
consolation, find — 

That the tear which is wiped with a little address, 
May be followed perhaps by a smile. 

At length the young surgeon was sent to Lon- 
don to get a little knowledge as cheaply as possi- 
ble, for small indeed were his pecuniary re- 
sources. He lodged at Whitechapel, and stayed 
till his slenderly-filled purse was quite empty, 
when he returned home, Before he left London, 



56 DAWNING? OF GENIUS 

however, he had very nearly been placed in a 
disagreeable dilemma. The person at whose 
house he lodged having one day, during his short 
absence, looked into a closet in his room, she 
found there, to her great horror, the body of a 
dead infant which Crabbe had procured for the 
purpose of dissection. His landlady having re- 
cently buried her babe, fancied the little corpse 
must be that of her child. She said that " Dr. 
Crabbe had dug up William," and declared that 
she would go to the Mansion House, and lay her 
complaint before the lord-mayor. Happily, Crabbe 
arrived in the midst of the confusion caused by 
this circumstance, and taking the body from the 
closet, and letting the excited mother look upon 
the face, which was fortunately untouched, he 
succeeded in convincing her that it was not the 
remains of her little one. 

Young Crabbe, upon returning to Aldborough, 
became an assistant to a surgeon there, and upon 
the removal of this gentleman to a neighboring 
place, he was persuaded to commence practice 
in his native town. Had he felt himself well 
qualified for his profession, he might now per- 
haps have been happy ; but well the young sur- 
geon knew that he had little skill in surgery 
His opportunities of acquiring knowledge had 



REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 57 

been few, and the natural want of dexterity of 
which his father used to complain when he was 
a child, still remained. His mind was now con- 
tinually harassed by the dread lest he should be 
called on to perform some operation of which he 
did not feel capable, or that some case of impor- 
tance should occur, in which he would not know 
how to act. He was still accustomed to spend 
his leisure in botanical researches, a pursuit 
which was connected with the duties of his pro- 
fession ) but when he returned into the town with 
the specimens of plants which he had gathered 
from the adjoining marshes, the old women used 
to say that he got his medicines from the ditches, 
and having, as they thought, the privileges of 
old acquaintances, and thinking that he acquired 
his remedies very cheaply, they expected that 
they and theirs should have their health repaired, 
without paying " the doctor." 

Thus things went on but sadly at Aldborough, 
and our young poet daily felt himself less likely 
to succeed in his profession. He knew and felt 
that he had genius, and longed earnestly to prove 
it in pursuits more congenial to his taste. One 
day when the falling leaves and sighing breezes 
of autumn seemed to correspond to the hopes and 
feelings of his bosom, he wandered to a desolate 



58 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

lonely spot near the town, called Maish Hill, 
and stood gloomily looking at a muddy ditch, 
while his thoughts were wandering away from 
the scene before him. He stooped down and 
gathered a plant from the thick water, and as he 
mused sadly over it he fully determined that he 
would stay no longer at Aldborough, but give up 
all, go to London, and try to make his way in 
the world by his writings. For this attempt he 
had no money, and it was not until he had writ- 
ten to Mr. Dudley North, whose brother was the 
member in parliament for Aldborough, requesting 
the loan of five pounds, that he could make any 
arrangement for his project. A kind answer 
came, and when the young surgeon received 
this supply, he prepared to quit the scene of his 
vexations. 

" In my youth, and through the prime of man- 
hood," says Sir Humphrey Davy, " I never en- 
tered London without feelings of pleasure and 
hope. It was to me the grand theatre of intel- 
lectual activity, the field of every species of en- 
terprise and exertion, the metropolis of the world 
of business, thought, and action." With some 
of these feelings the young poet regarded the 
great city ; here he hoped, amid all his depres- 
sion, that he should have an opportunity of accesa 



REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 59 

to the circle of literature. It was to be the place 
of his exertions, but he had difficulties to encoun- 
ter, which, happily, the great philosopher never 
knew ; and as the smoky atmosphere and the din 
of business w T arned him that he had arrived at 
the metropolis, anxious feelings alternated with 
the hope which yet lingered in his breast One 
moment he was soothed by the consciousness of 
his own genius, and the belief that here dwelt 
many who could assist him to make it of some 
use to others and himself ; again he remembered 
that he was poor and friendless, and then his 
prospects seemed as cheerless as ever. After he 
had paid the expenses of his voyage, he had 
nothing left but three pounds, a box of clothes, 
and case of instruments. With this small pro- 
vision he entered London : yet when he left it he 
had been admitted to the companionship of states- 
men and nobles, and could number among his 
friends the learned of the land. We can do little 
more than glance at the events of the first few 
dreary months of his London life. He immedi- 
ately commenced writing for publication, but he 
had none to introduce him to notice ; and no 
publisher would undertake to publish his works. 
He pawned his instruments, his watch, even his 
clothes for bread. With feelings too sensitive to 



60 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

allow of his pleading his poverty to the few ac- 
quaintances he formed, he suffered hourly priva- 
tions, and anguish of spirit. On one occasion he 
tore his only coat against the ornament of a fire- 
place, and unable to get it mended, he begged a 
needle and thread of his landlady, under pretence 
of sewing together some sheets of paper, and 
repaired it himself. 

A passage from a journal which he used to 
send to Miss Elmy, displays the emotions of his 
mind during this sad period. Sometimes we find 
him, in this journal, complaining that his whole 
nights had been spent in waking visions of the 
future. When about to send some verses and a 
letter to the Earl of Shelburne, he thus writes : 
" What a day will to-morrow be to me ! a day 
of dread and expectation. Ah ! dear Mira,* my 
hopes are flying. I see now my attempt on its 
darkest side : twice, nay, three times unsuccessful 
in the month I have been here. God help me, 
Sally ! I have a cowardly heart, yet I bear up as 
well as I can ; and if I had another shilling in the 
world, would get something to-night to keep 
these gloomy thoughts at bay ; but I must save 
what I have, in hopes of having a letter to pay 
for to-morrow." 

* The name by which he sometimes addressed Miss Elmy. 



REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 61 

Again, in the journal which he penned for no 
other eye than his own, he says : " My God, my 
God, I put my trust in thee ; my troubles increase, 
my soul is distressed. I am weary and in dis- 
tress. All day long I call upon thee. Oh, be 
thou my helper in the needful time of trouble ! 

" Why art thou so far from me, oh my Lord ? 
Why hidest thou thy face 1 I am in poverty and 
affliction : be thou with me, oh my God ! Let me 
not be wholly forsaken of my Redeemer !" 

But w T e will leave his early days, and turn with 
pleasure to the happier period of his life, which 
was now commencing. He ventured to send a 
poem to the illustrious Edmund Burke, whose 
liberality relieved many of the sons of genius, and 
whose kindness cheered them. Mr. Burke saw 
his talents, listened to his distresses, and exam- 
ined his writings. He introduced him to Fox, 
Dr. Johnson, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and several 
other eminent men ; invited him to his house, 
and treated him like a son. Through his gen- 
erous interference, Crabbe was enabled to pub- 
lish, and his poems soon gained him renown. 
Mr. Burke afterward assisted him to take orders. 

It is pleasing to find that after all the troubles 
of his youth, this great poet spent his middle and 
later years in comfort and prosperity. He mar- 

6 



62 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

ried the amiable lady whose affection had cheered 
his gloomiest days, and as a clergyman, spent a 
retired and happy life in attending to his clerical 
duties, instructing his beloved children, or in com- 
position, or the study of natural science. His 
house used to be filled with specimens of dried 
plants, stones, and insects, which he collected 
in his daily walks, and which he would place 
sometimes in a confused mass in any room into 
which he went. 

The Rev. George Crabbe died at Trowbridge, 
in 1832, in the 78th year of his age. Through 
life his character was one of great excellence. 
Manly and independent, and scarcely knowing 
personal fear, he yet was so mild and gentle that 
it has been said of him that he was " gentle even 
to a fault." The children of his parish loved 
him as a father. They would follow him about, 
and often 

" Pluck'd his gown to share the good man's smile. 
• His ready smile a parent's warmth express'd, 
Their welfare soothed him, and their cares distress'd." 

Never did word or look from the benevolent cler- 
gyman awe his young companions to a distance 
"When he walked about the country searching 
for geological specimens, the little boys would 
join him with their miniature hammers, and one 



REV. GEORGE CRABBE. 



63 



of his friends has said that " Many a mother 
will bless, many days hence, the accident that 
threw her offspring in the way of his unlabored 
and paternal kindness and instruction." 




BARON CUVIER. 




TRULY great man was Bar- 
on Cuvier. To him God gave 
a mind capable of knowing 
all things that can be com- 
prehended by a human be- 
ing. He studied and under- 
stood almost all science, and 
seldom forgot what he once learn- 
ed , while he added to his great 
attainments so lovely a moral char- 
acter, that those who knew him 
personally, or who were acquaint- 
ed with him by his writings, feel for 
him not only a high admiration, but 
a warm affection. 
Baron Cuvier was an eminent naturalist : he 
was skilled in all the sciences which relate to 
our globe. He studied the earth, and saw of 
what substances the various portions of it were 
composed ; he marked the changes it had under- 
gone since its creation, and examined the differ- 



BARON CUVIER, 65 

ent objects he found embedded in it — as the re- 
mains of plants or animals. He looked abroad 
upon the garden cultured by man, or on the wider 
garden spread over the face of the earth by its 
Maker, and not a plant which grew, from the 
towering palm-tree to the humble daisy, was un- 
observed by him ; while every shell that was 
thrown up by the waves of the ocean, and every 
fish that swam in the waters, furnished him with 
an object for careful research. He loved to mark 
the brilliant colors of the insect, which hangs in 
air, or which " lowly creeps ;" or to take it, when 
dead, and, with his dissecting-knife, examine in 
what respects its structure resembled, or differed 
from, those of the larger animals, or that of the 
human frame. The stately lion of the forest, 
and the little mouse ; — the eagle and the wren ; 
— -the greenness of the sea, and the blueness of 
the sky ; — all living things, — all sights and 
sounds of nature interested him ; and he delight- 
ed in showing how God had made every breath- 
ing creature fit for earth, or air, or water, or for 
whatever element it may be destined to inhabit, 
and eloquently proving that all are so beautifully 
and wonderfully constituted, that none but an 
infinitely wise and benevolent Being could have 
created the earth and all that dwell upon it. 

6* 



66 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

These were among his daily employments; 
but Baron Cuvier, besides studying nature, knew 
how to frame laws for his country, and could con- 
verse with lawyers, as if he had all his life made 
this subject his chief study. He often gave coun- 
sels on state affairs, and devoted much time to 
the promotion of general education ; and he care- 
fully read and corrected books, and drew maps 
for the public schools. He was thoroughly ac- 
quainted with the languages of the ancients ; 
spoke well the German and Italian, and read 
English. He had a complete knowledge of 
heraldry, drew well, and was so perfect a judge 
of drawing, that his correct eye would at a glance 
perceive the smallest inaccuracy in the perspec- 
tive or anatomy of a picture, while at the same 
time, he could see and enjoy the beauties and 
delicacies of art. He was, besides, an excellent 
geographer ; knew the histories of all times and 
countries ; and was fully versed in the general 
literature of his own period. 

George Leopold Chretien Frederic Dagobert 
Cuvier was the son of a military officer, of a 
Swiss regiment, then in the service of France. 
He was born at Montbeliard, in 1769. Mont- 
beliard is now in the department of Doubs, but 
it belonged then to the Dukes of Wurtemburg. 



BARON CUVIER. 6/ 

The mother of Cuvier was a lady of great talents 
and most amiable character ; and throughout 
life the great naturalist would expatiate upon 
her excellence with emotion, and declare that 
he owed her a deep debt of gratitude, for her 
tender solicitude and judicious training. 

The infancy and early childhood of George 
Cuvier required indeed all the watchful care of 
a kind mother, for he was so weak and sickly, 
that it seemed little likely that he would live to 
be a man. Mad. Cuvier watched over his health 
by night and day ; the little boy was seldom out 
of her sight ; and as his understanding gradually 
developed itself, she anxiously endeavored to form 
his character. She used to teach him to observe 
everything about him, and so early instructed 
him in reading, that when only four years old, 
he could read so well as to delight in books, and 
was thus at once supplied with a means of in- 
struction and amusement. His mother took great 
pains to excite in him a thirst for knowledge, 
for she well knew that an active mind is of im- 
mense value to the young ; and in order to en- 
courage this love of reading, she took care to 
supply him with such works as he could under- 
stand, and as might serve to increase his curiosi- 
ty. She gave him books of natural history, 



68 DAWNINGS OF GENUIS. 

travels, the histories of different countries, and 
tales of various kinds, which the child read with 
much pleasure, and which he remembered well. 
He had indeed a most surprising memory, for he 
not only stored his mind with the facts and anec- 
dotes pleasing to a child, but could repeat long 
lists of the names of kings, and of the dates when 
they began to reign, or died, without a single 
mistake : while he delighted in storing his mind 
with the accounts of events which the young 
reader generally would consider tedious and un- 
interesting. His mother taught him to love and 
revere God, and at her knee he lisped his early 
prayers at morn or evening, or would stand and 
repeat the Psalms of David, w T hile she pointed 
out to him their beauties, or explained their 
meaning, and told him of how much use they 
would be in directing him through life, or in con- 
soling him if sorrow or sickness should depress 
his spirit. This lady was very fond of flowers^ 
particularly of the red stock, and many years 
afterwards, her affectionate son would cherish 
this flower for her sake, and the sight of it would 
awaken the remembrance of the hours spent in 
his mother's chamber, when her gentle voice 
used to cheer and instruct him. If any one 
brought him a nosegay of the red stock, or placed 



BARON CUVIER. 69 

one in his chamber, no sooner did his eye glance 
at it than he thought of his mother ; and he 
would warmly and gratefully thank the friend 
who carried into his presence what he used to 
call " the favorite flower." 

At a very early age, young Cuvier went to a 
school near his own home, and his mother daily 
walked with him from their house to the place of 
instruction. These walks afforded Mad. Cuvier 
good opportunities for teaching him to observe 
nature. She could bid him mark and admire the 
landscape, and could tell him many things about 
the trees which they passed, and teach him the 
names of the birds or insects ; while her kind 
and gentle observations tended to form the be- 
nevolent character for which he was so remark- 
able. 

At this school young Cuvier commenced his 
study of the dead languages, and though his 
mother was ignorant of Latin, yet she made him 
every evening learn his Latin lessons by her side, 
and afterwards repeat them to her so thoroughly, 
that his tutor found that he knew them more 
correctly than any of his schoolfellows. The 
leisure hours which remained after preparing for 
school, were spent by little George in receiving 
instruction from bis mother in drawing, and 



70 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

many happy evenings were passed over his little 
sketches. These instructions were afterwards 
very valuable to him, for when he wanted to 
publish some works with plates, and could not 
afford to pay artists for making illustrations, his 
own pencil supplied them. It is indeed to be re- 
gretted, that children do not more frequently 
employ some of their leisure in learning to draw, 
since there are few situations in which they can 
be placed, where they would not find a knowl- 
edge of this art both useful and pleasant. 

George early acquired a skill with his pencil, 
and possessed besides a peculiar faculty of cut- 
ting figures or landscapes out of paper or card- 
board. Once, when he was only six years old, 
he was at the house of his uncle, when a conjurer 
coming there, that gentleman brought him into 
the parlor to amuse the children. One of the 
tricks which he exhibited, was that of plunging 
a dagger into his arm and drawing it out again, 
apparently dripping with blood. Another was 
that of commanding the waters of a little foun- 
tain, which flowed or stopped as be bade it. 
Everybody present was amazed at these won- 
ders ; but the intelligent child looked on without 
surprise, and as soon as the performance was fin- 
ished, explained the means by which the fountain 



BARON CUVIER. 71 

was made to play, or to be still, and showed the 
plan upon which the dagger was constructed. 
In order to make his meaning better understood, 
he cut out the whole in paper. 

When George Cuvier was ten years of age, he 
was removed from his first school to an academy 
called the Gymnase, and ne studied every branch 
of learning which was here taught. He was ex- 
ceedingly fond of reading, and spent his leisure 
hours in acquiring a mass of useful information, 
or in making small maps from the large ones 
used in the school : these little maps were, as 
soon as finished, given away to his companions. 
Study was to him so great a delight, that he sel- 
dom sought diversion, except when his watchful 
mother, fearing that his health might be injured 
by want of exercise, would drive him away from 
his books, and send him to play with his school- 
fellows. Whatever he did, however, he per- 
formed in earnest ; and when once on the play- 
ground, he became as fully alive to the game, 
and as ready to promote a merry sport, as any 
boy in the school. 

During the time he was at the Gymnase, he 
was accustomed frequently to visit a relation, 
who had among his books the whole of Buffon's 
work on natural history. It may easily be sup- 



72 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

posed, that no book escaped the notice of one so 
eager after knowledge, and he read with avidity 
the really poetical descriptions of animals given 
by that naturalist. These accounts are written 
in a most brilliant and fascinating style, and they 
have led many young readers to mark the beau- 
ties and wonders of the creation. Another work 
on these subjects, which happened to be in the 
school-library, was that of the indefatigable 
Swiss naturalist, the amiable Gesner. This was 
adorned with colored plates, and conveyed an 
interesting and accurate knowledge of animated 
nature ; and it w 7 as by reading these two books, 
and looking at their pictures, that the love of 
nature was acquired, and an attention directed 
to the natural sciences, W T hieh served through 
life, not merely as an amusement to himself, but 
as the means of important benefit to mankind. 
The plates in this copy of Buffon's work were 
not colored ; but young Cuvier sketched their out- 
lines from the figures, and used to paint them 
or color them with pieces of silk, according to 
the printed descriptions of the animals they rep- 
resented. 

It often occurs that a mind of great energy 
and natural powers is directed by some accidental 
circumstance to the choice of a pursuit, which 



BARON CUVIER. 73 

thence becomes the business of life : — as the 
great Cowley first had his poetical feelings en- 
kindled by reading Spencer's Fairy Queen, when 
it lay in the window of his mother's dressing- 
room. Our own great naturalist, Sir Joseph 
Banks, was aroused in boyhood from much men- 
tal indolence by his remarking the beauty of a 
flower; and so diligent did he become, that soon 
it might be said of him, as it was of the Hebrew 
sage and king — " He spake of trees, from the 
cedar-tree that is in Lebanon, even unto the hys- 
sop that springeth out of the w T all : he spake also 
of beasts, and of creeping things, and of fishes." 
Sir Joseph, when a boy, had been bathing one 
fine summer evening with some schoolfellows, 
and having stayed some time in the water, found 
that his friends had proceeded home without him. 
Being thus left to his own musings, he strolled 
slowly down a lane whose banks and hedges 
were fragrant with summer flowers. Some clus- 
ter of wild blossoms caught his eye, and he in- 
voluntarily exclaimed, " How beautiful !" He 
stood gazing &t them in silent admiration,, and 
then he thought how much more natural it would 
be that he should study these beautiful things, 
than pore over books of Latin and Greek : but 
another moment, and he remembered that his, 

7 



74 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

father wished him to study those languages, and 
that therefore it was his duty to do so. " But," 
said the youth again to himself, " why can I not 
study the flowers in my hours of play V s He 
began immediately, but the poor little student 
had no books from which to learn botany, and 
he was obliged to inquire the names of the 
plants from the women who went about culling 
herbs for the apothecaries : but the love of knowl- 
edge was awakened, and it never slept again. 

Young Cuvier read, during childhood, so many 
works on natural history, that when he was 
twelve years old, he was as thoroughly acquaint- 
ed with birds and animals, knew their species, 
their habits and instincts, as well as many a pro- 
fessor of science. He was seldom without a vol- 
ume of his favorite author, Buffon, in his pocket j 
and whenever he had .half an hour to spare from 
his studies at school, he would sit down and read 
it. He always felt that regard for the memory 
of Buffon, which every generous mind feels for 
one whose writings first gave him a taste for a 
favorite study, and he used to speak highly and 
gratefully of the benefits which that naturalist 
had conferred on science. But it was not from 
books alone that he acquired knowledge : — no 
ramble on the afternoon of a holyday was useless 



BARON CUVIER. 75 

to him : if his playfellows captured a bird, or 
took a fish from its element, George would ex- 
amine its beauty and structure : and if they 
roamed together, collecting the beetles from the 
common, or catching the May-flies or the dragon- 
flies, in the little gauze net or beneath their caps, 
these were not detained in useless confinement, 
but were looked at with care and treated with 
kindness. The faithful dog which came bound- 
ing to its young master, and the timid sheep 
which fled at his approach, found a kind friend 
as well as a skilful observer in the young natu- 
ralist, and out of doors, as well as in the house, 
every hour added to his knowledge. 

When George was about fourteen years old, 
he began to show some of those talents which 
afterward rendered him equally remarkable as a 
legislator, as for his attainments in natural his- 
tory and science. He used to assemble a party 
of his schoolfellows, and forming them into an 
academy, he was constituted their president. The 
little society met once in the week, and George 
used to sit on his bed, which was thus made a 
president's chair, while the other boys sat round 
a table. Books were then read aloud, and dis- 
cussed $ and many an author who had narrated 
his travels, and many a naturalist who had re- 



76 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

corded his observations, formed the subjects of 
their literary conversations. Nor was philosophy 
discarded from the youthful assembly ; but opin- 
ions of the mind of man, his feelings and desti- 
nies, were given across the table, and received 
or opposed, according to the sentiments of the 
party ; when the whole was summed up by the 
president. His companions must have had a 
high opinion of the talents and integrity which 
marked their young president, for his decisions 
were generally received unanimously. 

The parents of George Cuvier, who were pro- 
testants, intended to educate their son for the 
church, but a circumstance occurred which pre- 
vented it, and much mortified the young student. 
Youths who were to be clergymen w T ere gener- 
ally removed from the Gymnase to a free school 
at Tubingen, where they received theological 
instruction. On leaving school, it was customary 
for each pupil to write a theme, and according 
to the respective merit of these compositions the 
boys took their places in the classes of the acad- 
emy at Tubingen. The master of the Gymnase 
decided on the comparative excellences of the 
themes ; and having been displeased with young 
Cuvier, on account of some boyish frolic, he suf- 
fered his prejudices to prevent his doing George 



BARON CUVIER. 77 

the justice of placing him in the first rank. His 
pupil was highly offended at this, and felt so 
great a repugnance to enter the academy under 
such circumstances, that he at last decided to 
decline going there at all. 

But attainments like those of young Cuvier 
were not likely to remain unknown in the neigh- 
borhood where he lived, and he was already re- 
garded at Montbeliard as a youth of remarkable 
endowments. The Duke Charles of Wiirtemberg 
had heard of his genius ; and when visiting there, 
he sent for him, and examined him upon various 
subjects. He was much pleased with the extent 
of his information, and his capacity for study, 
and he resolved to take him under his patronage 
and to forward him in life. He offered to place 
him in the University of Stuttgard, at his own 
academy called " l'Academie Caroline," and 
with a joyful heart George anticipated his future 
prospects. But when about to leave his home 
and parents, he trembled at the thought of all he 
might have to encounter when among strangers. 
Though he was fourteen years of age, he had 
never as yet been away from his mother, and as 
the time of parting drew near, a great depression 
came over his spirit. He was sent to Stuttgard, 
under the care of the chamberlain and the secre- 

7* 



78 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

tary of his patron. The journey lasted three 
days, and the poor boy, seated between these 
two gentlemen, who spoke only German, of 
which he did not understand one w T ord, had full 
time to meditate on the new and strange world 
to which he was going. All his love of science, 
all his desire for improvement, could not prevent 
his feeling an anxiety almost amounting to dread ; 
and many years afterward, Baron Cuvier w T ould 
declare that he could not recall those three days 
to his memory without experiencing most painful 
emotion. 

At this University, young Cuvier soon found 
himself completely absorbed by study. During 
the four years which he spent here, he studied 
all the branches of learning which w 7 ere taught 
in the higher classes. Even the walks which 
his health required, were rendered, by his atten- 
tion, good opportunities for the acquisition of 
knowledge. He did not saunter along w T ith his 
thoughts intent upon the subject which had occu- 
pied him before he quitted the house: — he was 
not idly musing, and seeing and hearing nothing 
around him, but he was actively pursuing his 
w r ay through field and lane — peeping under eve- 
ry hedge — stooping to examine the plants, and 
the snail-shells, and the stones. He collected, 



BARON CUVIER. 79 

during his rambles, a large number of plants ; 
and when he reached his home, he examined 
their structure, and placed them in their botani- 
cal classes, and endeavored to ascertain what 
properties they possessed. Then they were care- 
fully dried and put out upon paper, and thus he 
gradually formed a good herbarium. Sometimes 
he sketched and colored the flowers, and by his 
industry he furnished himself with a number of 
botanical drawings, which he afterward found of 
much service ; while from the birds and insects 
he made several accurate and valuable paintings, 
upon which he used to look with pleasure many 
years afterward. 

Those who have never been accustomed in 
their rural walks to observe closely the various 
objects of nature, can have little idea of the en- 
joyment afforded to a naturalist by a country 
stroll. It is too often thought by the young that 
the different branches of natural history must be 
chiefly studied from books. They look into an 
elementary treatise upon botany, entomology, or 
any other department of science, and seeing there 
a number of terms expressed in another language, 
they fancy that these form the substance of the 
science. As well might w T e term our alphabet 
the English language. An extensive knowledge 
of natural history cannot indeed be acquired with- 



80 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

out some previous systematic study. Without 

method, we could not remember facts ; and were 

we not to use the arrangement made by former 

observers, we should make very slow progress. 

Gladly therefore may the student of nature turn 

to the systems laid down in books as a guide in 

his pursuit : but it must be in the meadow or the 

garden, by seashore or river's brink, that he will 

gain his most valuable knowledge. Here too he 

may acquire health and activity, and learn to 

draw enjoyment from simple pleasures ; needing 

not the excitement of any great event to rouse 

him from his languor, but finding in his daily 

walks amusement and delight, and holding with 

the poet 

" The cheerful faith, that all which we behold 
Is full of blessings." 

Young Cuvier obtained several prizes during 
his college residence, and it is no small evidence 
of his industry, that although he entered Stutt- 
gard ignorant of the German language, he ob- 
tained, nine months after his arrival there, a prize 
for his knowledge of it. He was also appointed 
a chevalier, w 7 hich was a very honorable distinc- 
tion, and conferred on very few ; and it was the 
means of his enjoying many additional privileges 
in the University. At this time he used to keep 
living insects in his rooms; he fed them and 



BARON CUVIER. 81 

watched their habits, and made so many draw- 
ings from the live specimens that they formed 
several thick volumes. He was destined by his 
patron, the Duke, to fill some office in the gov- 
ernment, but many changes took place, and his 
parents became in embarrassed circumstances. 
Seeing no prospect of obtaining any office, he 
determined to become a tutor in a gentleman's 
family, and engaged himself as the instructor of 
the only son of Count d'Hericy, at Caen in Nor- 
mandy. He had here much leisure for his own 
studies ; and as the residence of the Count was 
near the sea, it afforded him the opportunity of 
making many valuable observations on marine 
animals. He discovered several very important 
facts relative to fossil remains, which he found 
in the earth near the ocean ; and as he had be- 
come acquainted with many learned men, he en- 
tered upon a correspondence on this subject with 
some of the most eminent naturalists of France, 
and published his opinions in various journals of 
science. Some of those gentlemen, who were 
at the heads of scientific institutions of Paris, 
felt that a young man like Cuvier would be an 
invaluable assistant in their pursuits, and soon 
invited him to come to the metropolis. He was 
early engaged to fill several honorable situations, 
but that which pleased him best was his appoint- 



82 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

ment to the professorship of comparative anato- 
my, at the Jardin des Plantes ; where he was 
associated constantly with those who were intent 
upon scientific research, and where he had every 
facility for his favorite employment. He entered 
upon his duties at Paris with his usual ardor and 
perseverance ; and though the collection at the 
museum of comparative anatomy consisted at 
that time of only four or five skeletons, yet he 
amassed, during the period of his superintendence, 
so splendid and vast a collection, that students 
of this and succeeding ages will thank him for 
his exertions. 

The public career of M. Cuvier was a pros- 
perous one. He received many honors, among 
which was that of being made chancellor of 
state by Napoleon, and created a baron by Louis 
XVIIL, as a mark of that monarch's personal re- 
gard. Charles X., and his former sovereign, the 
Kino; of Wiirtember£, also bestowed on this 
great man the proofs of their esteem, by confer- 
ring public honors upon him : and he was ap- 
pointed an inspector of the public schools of 
France ; while his writings were received through- 
out Europe with respect and praise. Married to 
a very amiable lady, his private life would have 
been one of almost uninterrupted happiness, had 



BARON CUVIER. 83 

he not lost at different periods his four children 
The death of one little boy seven years old so af- 
fected Baron Cuvier, that for many years after he 
could not look on a child of that age without deep 
emotion ; and he would sometimes stop before 
a group of boys at play, and contemplate them 
with a mournful countenance. He afterward lost 
his daughter Clementine, a young lady remarka- 
ble for her loveliness, piety, and talents. She 
was his only remaining child — the last whom 
death had spared him ; and after she died, his 
light and curling hair quickly turned gray, his 
pale cheek grew paler, and sorrow left deeper 
lines upon his brow : yet the noble-minded man 
was not selfish even in sorrow ; and after a short 
suspension of his valuable labors, he resumed 
them as diligently as ever. When he presided 
for the first time after her death at . a public as- 
sembly, he took the chair, as usual, with com- 
posure ; but when he attempted to speak, his 
feelings were too strong for him, — he bow 7 ed 
his head, covered his face with his hands, and 
wept bitterly. All were silent, for every one felt 
that a burst of grief like this was natural from 
such a parent at the loss of such a child. A 
length he recovered himself, and said, " Pardon 
me, gentlemen, — I was once a father, and have 



84 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

lost all !" — after which he proceeded with his 
usual calmness to the business of the meeting. 

An amusing instance is recorded by his biog- 
rapher, Mrs. Lee. of Baron Cuvier's enthusiasm 
for science. He had one day found a valuable 
fossil specimen embedded in a mass of earth. He 
took it to the house of his brother, M. Frederic 
Cuvier, hoping to obtain his assistance in clear- 
ing it perfectly from the materials around it. His 
brother was gone out, but M. Laurillard hap- 
pened to be on the spot, and the Baron (who 
always set everybody to work) asked him to do 
it for him. M. Laurillard, though not aware of 
the value of the specimen, succeeded in disen- 
gaging the foot, and when Baron Cuvier re- 
turned he presented it to him. The philosopher 
was in an ecstasy, and gave way to his delight 
as fully as if he had been a schoolboy. He 
danced about the room, shook M. Laurillard by 
the hand, and was so overjoyed, that this gentle- 
man thought he must be mad. Then, taking the 
fossil foot in one hand, and dragging his skilful 
assistant up stairs by the other, he called out to 
Mad. Cuvier — " I have found my foot, and M. 
Laurillard found it for me !" 

This great man died in 1832, and by his death 
EuroDe lost one of her greatest men of science, 



BARON CUVIEK. 85 

and France one of her most benevolent legis- 
lators. 

No life could have been more industrious than 
that of Baron Cuvier. He rose early, and his 
whole day was fully employed. Few things ren- 
dered him more irritable than that of having to 
wait for any person, or any thing, even for a few 
minutes. He hated delays, and when he had 
determined that a thing should be done, he set 
about executing it immediately : yet with this 
excessive energy he united a patience which fitted 
him for examining the smallest and most exact 
details, and had the most amiable consideration 
for the feelings of others. His purse was ever 
open to those in distress, and he would give— 
what he valued far more than money — his time 
to assist any deserving young person who re- 
quired his aid. 

One thing which was very remarkable in Baron 
Cuvier's character, w T as his decided aversion to 
the habit of speaking satirically. No one who 
made an observation which was unkind, or which 
tended to make others ridiculous, ever saw a 
smile on his benevolent countenance when it was 
uttered, however wittily it might be expressed ; 
and yet his frequent merry laugh showed how 
much he enjoyed the innocent mirth and play- 

8 



86 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

fulness of conversation when unaccompanied by 
satire. 

We all know that ridicule gives pain to those 
who are the objects of it ; yet many, who would 
upon no account by their actions injure another, 
are induced, by the pleasure of exciting laughter, 
to utter sayings which distress the sensitive far 
more than if they deprived him of his property. 
Our words are no less important than our actions, 
and often they are remembered by others long 
after we have forgotten them ourselves. Then, 
too, the practice of ridicule injures our own char- 
acter. When we can find amusement in the 
faults, or mistakes, or infirmities of others, we are 
destroying our own sensibility, and gradually be- 
coming hard-hearted. The young often regard 
the power of ridicule as a proof of superior abili- 
ties ; but those who have observed and thought 
much have agreed that it is far more often a sign 
of mediocrity of talents ; and that it requires a 
higher order of mind to see and appreciate ex- 
cellence than to discover imperfections. Our 
own good, as well as that of our neighbor, de- 
mands, that, like Baron Cuvier, we should check 
every propensity to satire. 



SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 




hands, and 



HO has not seen, either as an 
engraving or wood-cut, a rep- 
resentation of the infant Sam- 
uel ? It has been chosen as a 
frontispiece to so many books 
written for youth, that every 
person knows the attitude of 
the holy child at his devotion. 
The plates are taken from an origi- 
nal drawing by Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds, and it was a favorite subject 
the artist, for he made several 
copies from his own picture. The 
painting itself is one peculiarly inter- 
esting and beautiful : the young Sam- 
uel on bended knee, with gently clasped 



-" Childhood's lip and cheek 



Mantling beneath an earnest brow of thought," 

wears so innocent and elevated an expression, 
that we seem almost to listen to the words from 
his lip — " Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth." 



88 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

The great artist who bequeathed us this legacy 
was born at Plympton, in Devonshire, in 1723. 
His father was the clergyman of the parish ; and 
Joshua w T as the seventh of eleven children. Mr. 
Reynolds, besides being the curate, was the mas- 
ter of Plympton grammar-school, and was a man 
of considerable learning ; but his son used after- 
wards to say of him, that he divided his attention 
among so many pursuits, that he never succeeded 
in any. He certainly had no skill in teaching, 
for his pupils made very slow progress in learn- 
ing, and they were removed one by one from his 
instruction, until one scholar only w T as left to 
occupy the forms of the school. This vexatious 
circumstance did not, however, render the clergy- 
man irritable or unhappy ; for though he had a 
large family dependant upon a small income, he 
was naturally so cheerful and good-tempered, 
that, instead of fretting over his misfortune, he 
sat down quietly to his own studies, or employed 
himself in educating his children. Thus the early 
days of young Reynolds were spent in a comfort- 
able home, and few men of genius have, through- 
out life, had to contend with fewer difficulties. 

Joshua, from his earliest age, was fond of 
drawing. He used to bring his paper and pen- 
cils to the fire-side on winter evenings, and amuse 



SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 89 

himself in copying the pictures in Dryden's edi- 
tion of Plutarch's lives ; and sometimes his fond- 
ness for exercising, his pencil led him to employ 
in drawing the time which should have been oc- 
cupied in learning his lessons. There was an 
old book in his father's library, called " Catt's 
Emblems," which had been brought by his great 
grandmother from Holland, and which contained 
a number of prints. This book was quite a 
treasure to Joshua, who would turn over its leaves 
and look at the pictures with much delight ; and 
then take his pencil and make a rude imitation 
of them. He had, too, some elder sisters w T ho 
were fond of drawing, and who encouraged their 
little brother in his pursuit, by lending him some 
of their own sketches to copy. 

One day Mr. Reynolds gave his son a Latin 
exercise to write ; but Joshua did not like Latin, 
and therefore amused himself by making a sketch 
on the back of his paper, of a book-case which 
was in the room where he was. When the ex- 
ercise was called for, his father saw the drawing, 
and immediately wrote under it, " Done by Joshua 
out of pure idleness ;" for as Mr. Reynolds had 
a greater love for the classics than for the arts, 
and as he very justly considered that his pupil 
ought to pay more attention to his education than 

8* 



90 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

his amusement, he did not choose to encourage 
him in performances of this kind. The little pic- 
ture, however, was put carefully away by some 
of the family, for it was in their possession years 
after, w 7 hen the artist had become eminent, and 
they valued it as a proof of his early skill. 

But there is nothing very remarkable in the 
taste for sketching or copying prints w 7 hich was 
shown by the little boy. Children are often 
pleased with this employment. Not being ac- 
customed to see many pictures, they do not per- 
ceive the faults of their own, and feel gratified 
that they can at all imitate w 7 hat they so much 
admire ; we have therefore no reason to infer, 
that because a boy does this, he will afterwards 
excel as an artist. The direction of the taste of 
young Reynolds was more certainly shown by 
the delight he took in a book which he read 
when only eight years old. The work was the 
" Jesuit's Perspective," and it lays down a num- 
ber of rules to assist the young artist in gaining 
the principles of correct drawing. This treatise 
would not often attract the attention of the 
schoolboy ; yet Joshua, although he had the 
range of his father's library, and could find books 
suitable to his age, selected this, and carefully 
studied it. He was not usually fond of learning, 



SIB, JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 



91 



but as it is evident that at this early age the child 
understood this work, he must even then have 
had good abilities and the power of studying, 
when he could be brought to interest himself on 
the subject before him. After having read the 
rules of perspective, he was anxious to put them 
in practice, and looked around him for a suitable 
object for his sketch. His father's school-room 
was built upon a row of pillars, and this afforded 
him an excellent subject for the attempt. His 
natural taste for drawing being now assisted by 
some knowledge of its principles, he made a very 
excellent picture ; and when it was finished, it 
was carried to his father. 

Though Mr. Reynolds seldom bestowed much 
notice upon his son's endeavors in copying, yet 
he was struck with astonishment w T hen he gazed 
upon the paper, and said, " Now this exemplifies 
what the author of the i Perspective' asserts in 
his preface, i that by observing the rules laid 
down 1 in this book a man may do wonders' — for 
this is wonderful." We know not what impres- 
sion these words had upon the mind of the little 
boy, nor whether they returned again and again 
to his recollection, but when we consider that he 
loved his father, and naturally looked up to him 
as a better judge than himself of a good draw- 



92 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

ing, we may reasonably suppose that they flat- 
tered his youthful vanity, and encouraged him to 
persevere. When another celebrated artist, Ben- 
jamin West, was a child, he was one day left 
alone to rock the cradle of his sister's infant. He 
looked at the sleeping countenance of the babe, 
and thought it very pretty — then took a pencil 
and sketched it as it lay with its soft cheek 
pressed against its cradle-pillow. When his 
mother returned to the room she looked at his 
drawing, and as she praised it, stooped down to 
kiss the cheek of her son. " That kiss," the ar- 
tist used afterward to say, " made me a painter." 
Whether or not young Reynolds was stimu- 
lated by the praises of his family, he felt an in- 
creasing love of the art, and continued not only 
to draw, but to read the works of artists. He 
now studied " Richardson's Theory of Painting," 
a work full of ardent admiration of the subject ; 
and the young reader soon caught the enthusiasm 
of the author. He used to read of Raffaelle, till 
he regarded him as the most extraordinary man 
the world ever produced. His very name would 
act like a spell upon young Reynolds, and he ear- 
nestly longed to imitate him. Sometimes he would 
muse upon the picture with his mind full of bright 
hopes that he too should be an eminent painter ; 



SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 93 

and sometimes he would shut up the book in de- 
spair, as he thought that he should never have 
any instruction in painting, and was not destined 
to be known beyond his native town. Though 
he had thought and read so much on art, he had 
had very few advantages of seeing valuable pic- 
tures ; and had never seen any good portraits, 
except a few executed by an artist of his native 
county, Mr. Gandy of Exeter. There was a por- 
trait by this gentleman of an alderman of Exeter, 
which adorned the Town-hall, and which Sir 
Joshua used, in later years, to say was equal to 
a painting of Rembrandt. Young Reynolds's 
taste for drawing was known to Mr. Gandy; 
and he used to converse much with him upon 
the subject, and he gave him some information. 
Joshua w r as an attentive pupil, and listened with 
pleasure to the directions for mixing his colors, 
and the method of laying them on the canvass ; 
or he would delight in hearing anecdotes of 
painters and pictures, or anything relating to his 
profession which the artist had to tell. 

When young Reynolds had for some years 
pursued his studies with his father, it became 
time for him to make choice of his future em- 
ployment in life. Mr. Reynolds much wished to 
educate him for a physician, and Sir Joshua used 



94 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

afterward to say, that so fully had he determined 
on diligent study, and so earnestly did he desire 
success, that had the plan been pursued, he should 
have been as eminent for his skill in physic as he 
then was in painting. The inclinations of the 
youth turned, however, in another direction ; for 
how could he forget the wondrous Raffaelle, and 
cease to long to be like him ? He had talked 
and thought of art and artists during the whole 
course of his boyhood, and what were Latin and 
Greek, and anatomy and physic, compared to 
the lines of beauty traced by Michael Angelo, or 
Rubens, or Titian ? A kind neighbor, a Mr. 
Crouch, who well knew the longings after ex- 
cellence in painting which the youth had cher- 
ished so fondly, and who had looked with admi- 
ration on his attempts in drawing, interfered 
during the deliberation. He represented to his 
father that it would be better to let Joshua follow 
a pursuit to which he seemed so attached ; and 
reminded him how far more likely he would 
be to succeed in his profession, and to spend his 
life happily, than if employed in one which he 
did not like so well. Mr. Reynolds was an in- 
dulgent father, and wished to see his son happy, 
— and he therefore determined to follow Mr. 
Crouch's advice. Arrangements were accord- 



SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS, 95 

ingly made with Hudson^ the greatest painter 
then in England, to receive Joshua as a pupil; 
and, full of enthusiasm for genius, he went to 
London and entered the studio of his master 
when about seventeen years of age. In after 
years, when he had risen to eminence, he used 
to speak with gratitude of the kind interference 
of Mr. Crouch, and he had a silver cup made, 
which he intended to present to him, had not that 
gentleman died before the cup was finished. 

It was with no wish to share in the gay pleas- 
ures of the metropolis that young Reynolds en- 
tered it : to study his profession, to work con- 
stantly at his easel, these were the objects of his 
anticipation ; and when once in London, he cared 
little to leave the painting-room. He never 
wanted a holyday, for when obliged to lay by his 
pencil for a temporary relaxation, he employed 
his time in endeavoring to gain knowledge: He 
read works o: A general literature, and mingled 
with his reverence for eminent painters a similar 
feeling to great authors, or other men of genius. 
One day, soon after his arrival, he was sent by 
Hudson to an auction-room, at which there was 
a sale of pictures, when the great poet Pope en- 
tered the room. The young artist saw a con- 
siderable movement among the crowd round the 



96 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

door, and in another moment he heard the name 
of Mr. Pope whispered among those who stood 
near him. Many persons pressed forward to 
hold out their hands to the poet, and our young 
enthusiast was not to be outdone. He put his 
hand under the arm of the person next him, and 
had great satisfaction in touching the hand of the 
object of his veneration. 

The first picture by which young Reynolds ob- 
tained the notice of the public was the portrait 
of an elderly female, who was a servant in Mr. 
Hudson's family. This w T as placed in the gal- 
lery of that artist, and was so much admired by 
visiters, that the instructer began to feel jealous 
of his pupil ; and in consequence of a disagree- 
ment which ensued, they parted, after having 
been together two years. 

Young Reynolds now T returned home, and 
spent three years in Devonshire, diligently em- 
ploying himself in his profession; but as he al- 
ways thought that, if ever he was to become 
eminent, it must be by the time he was thirty 
years of age, he felt very anxious to go to Italy, 
in order to study the great masters of the Italian 
school. The long-cherished wish of his heart 
was gratified, and he w r ent to Rome. With his 
usual energy he devoted himself to study, and in 



SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 97 

the galleries of foreign paintings he found con- 
stant employment, and all the advantages for 
improvement which he so much desired. He 
lost no time, but, like the great Grecian painter, 
Apelles, he let no day pass without a stroke of 
the pencil, and morning and noon and evening 
found him at work. His delight in Italy, how- 
ever, did not subdue his love of his own country 
— for when, once at Venice, he heard an air 
played, to which he had often listened in the 
streets of London, so many recollections were 
awakened of home and friends, that he turned 
aside and burst into tears. 

On his return from Italv, after a short visit to 
his family, he settled in London. He soon be- 
came known and respected by many eminent 
persons in the metropolis, and his studio was fre- 
quented by men high in rank and remarkable for 
literature. By the time he reached his thirtieth 
year, he had actually obtained his wish, and was 
one of the first painters of England. Riches and 
honors awaited him in his further progress. He 
was made president of the Royal Academy, and 
received from the King the honor of knighthood 
on the occasion. 

The manner in which he became acquainted 
with Dr. Johnson is very characteristic, for it was 

9 



98 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

always his aim through life to associate with 
men of superior minds. In that author's " Lives 
of the Poets" is a biography of Savage. Mr. 
Reynolds, who had never seen this work, opened 
a volume at this life, and began to read it while 
he was standing by the fire, with his arm resting 
against the chimney-piece. He soon became so 
deeply interested in the narrative, that he could 
not put dow r n the book till he came to its con- 
clusion, and had traced poor Savage through the 
many scenes of his painful history. When he 
attempted to move, his arm had become quite 
benumbed by remaining so long in this position. 
He lost no time in seeking the acquaintance of a 
writer who had so powerfully riveted his atten- 
tion, and until the death of the great moralist, Sir 
Joshua Reynolds was one of his chief friends. 

Sir Joshua regarded the conversation of those 
skilled in art or learning as a most valuable 
means of acquiring knowledge ; for as he had 
little leisure for reading, he wished to avail him- 
self of any means of general improvement. Yet 
every one who conversed with him was surprised 
at the extent of his information ; and Dr. John- 
son used to say of him and the celebrated come- 
dian, Foote — " When Foote has told me some- 
thing, I dismiss it from my mind like a passing 



SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 99 

shadow ; but when Reynolds tells me something, 
I consider myself possessed of an idea the more.'' 
Dr. Johnson also availed himself of his friend's 
literary talents, in his celebrated series of peri- 
odical essays, " The Idler," to which Sir Joshua 
contributed several papers. 

This great artist always recommended perse- 
verance to the young men who asked his advice. 
He used to say, " Excellence is never granted to 
man, but as the reward of labor." When he 
w r as once shown a fan which Pope had painted 
for a lady, and was asked what he thought of 
the painting, he said, it was just such a one as 
might be expected from one who painted only 
for his amusement ; and that it was like the per- 
formance of a child. " This," said he, " must 
always be the case when the work is taken up 
only from idleness, and laid aside when it ceases 
to amuse any longer. But those," he added, 
" who are determined to excel, must go to their 
work willing or unwilling, and will find it no 
play, but, on the contrary, very hard labor." An 
excellent remark, and one which may be applied 
to many things besides painting. 

It would be unjust to the memory of our great 
artist were we to omit mentioning his mild and 
inassuming disposition. He was never know r n 



100 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

to utter a word that seemed like arrogance or 
rudeness. It has been said of him, that " he was 
never apparently discomposed by anything under 
the sun, and was always the same mild and 
cheerful companion," and polite to every one. 

Though his course in life was singularly pros- 
perous, yet he was not totally exempt from the 
ills of humanity ; for he was always troubled 
with a deafness, which increased with his years, 
and some years before his death he lost the use 
of his right eye, and was thus prevented paint- 
ing. The privation which he then experienced 
may be estimated when we consider his excessive 
fondness for his art — a fondness so great, that 
when he was occasionally, during life, visiting 
at the houses of noblemen, he used to long to re- 
turn to his canvass, and would say when he arrived 
in his painting-room, that he had felt during his 
absence as if deprived of his necessary food. 

It may seem a small praise of a man to assert 
of him that he was perfectly polite, yet this fact 
implies some great excellences of character. 
There are some who, from having been accus- 
tomed to good society, and having observed that 
the only way to gain respect in it is by avoiding 
every rudeness, are careful to act politely towards 
a few whom they wish to please, but are care- 



SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 101 

less in their manner towards persons in general. 
This is not true politeness. To be always polite 
we must have a desire to please, and good sense 
to know what is generally pleasing ; we must 
have imagination, in order to know what others 
feel by thinking what w r e should feel if in their 
place. A quick sense of propriety, a refined 
taste, candor, and forbearance with the infirmities 
of others, are all necessary to this virtue, and 
true courtesy is enjoined by those words of Holy 
Writ, where we are commanded to do unto 
others whatever we would that others should do 
unto us. 

Sir Joshua Reynolds died in 1792. His re- 
mains lie interred in St. Paul's cathedral. As 
we stand beneath the dome of that magnificent 
building, where the full sounding organ seems to 
swell its notes to their fullest melody, we are near 
the spot of his last earthly home. Here are four 
statues near the choir. One of Dr. Johnson, 
another of the benevolent John Howard, the 
third that of the great Orientalist Sir William 
Jones, and the other that of the subject of our 
memoir. 

The statue of Sir Joshua was executed by 
Flaxman, and is considered the finest work of 
that great sculptor. The artist is represented as 



102 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

holding in his right hand his celebrated " Dis- 
course on Art/' while his left touches a pedestal, 
on which is carved a portrait of Michael Angelo, 
Flaxman knew that Sir Joshua considered this 
Italian master as the greatest of painters, for he 
had said a short time before his death, when de- 
livering an address to the Royal Academy, " I 
should w T ish that the last words I pronounce in 
this place might be the name of Michael An- 
gelo." 




LINDLEY MURRAY, 



HE name of Murray will re- 
mind the young reader of 
school and its lessons. It 
may be that the remembran- 
ces connected with it are not 
so pleasant to the youth as 
they will be some years hence, 
when he shall be removed 
from the superintendence of others 
and left to his own guidance. He 
may not at present think his school- 
days so happy as those of his future 
life are to be, and cannot consider even 
the play-ground a place of so much 
enjoyment as he will find when the 
world lies all before him, and he shall 
choose his amusements for himself. But perhaps 
when years have passed over, and he shall have 
learned more of life, he will revisit the scene of 
his sports and instructions with the feeling ex- 
pressed by Cowper, and felt by many others : — 




104 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

" Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, 
We love the play-place of our early days ; 
The scene is touching, and the heart is stone 
That feels not at that sight, and feels at none. 
The wall, on which we tried our graving skill, 
The very name we carved subsisting still, 
The bench, on which we sate while deep employed, 
Though mangled, hack'd, and hew'd, not yet destroyed ; 
The little ones, unbutton'd, glowing hot, 
Playing our games, and on the very spot ; 
As happy as we once, to kneel and draw 
The chalky ring, and knuckle down at taw ; 
To pitch the ball into the grounded hat, 
Or drive it devious with a dexterous pat. 
This fond attachment to the well-known place 
Whence first we started into life's long race, 
Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway 
We feel it ev'n in age, and at our latest day." 

Many now young, when they afterward look 
back upon their early days, will feel glad that 
Lindley Murray wrote the grammar which they 
at present think it tedious to study. 

At the time when Murray composed his gram- 
matical and other school-books, the attention of 
comparatively few authors had been directed to 
elementary English works ; and those who were 
engaged in instructing the young had felt the 
want of books of this kind, and now received 
them with pleasure. The grammar and gram- 
matical exercises, especially, circulated rapidly, 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 105 

and soon there was scarcely an academy in Eng- 
land in which they were not used ; while they 
were equally well known in the United States of 
America. So many editions of his works ap- 
peared, that it has been truly said of Lindley 
Murray, that no author, dead or living, has fur- 
nished so large a number of books for the young. 
The sketch of his early days may therefore be 
suitable on pages designed peculiarly for their 
perusal. 

Lindley Murray was an American. He was 
born in the year 1745, at Swetara, near Lan- 
caster in Pennsylvania. His father was at that 
time a miller, but afterward engaged more ex- 
tensively in business, and became one of the most 
considerable merchants of America. Both his 
parents belonged to the Society of Friends, and 
Murray was educated in the religious principles 
of that society, and was, through life, one of its 
members and ornaments. His father was re- 
markable for the strict integrity of his character, 
but seems to have been rather deficient in tender- 
ness — a deficiency which was in some measure 
compensated to young Murray by the extreme 
kindness and gentleness of his mother's disposi- 
tion. Lindley was the eldest of twelve children, 
and besides that he was in infancy very unhealthy 



106 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

and fretful, his countenance was so wanting in 
intelligence, that observers looked with pain upon 
the child, and feared that if he lived to manhood 
he would be deficient in intellect. His mother 
used to dread the future for her son, and often 
said afterward, that had it pleased God to take 
her little babe to himself, she should not have 
sorrowed for his death, as she would have thought 
that both she and her infant were spared from 
suffering. But He who is wiser and kinder than 
even the best of earthly parents had sent this 
little child into the world to be an important 
means of usefulness to society. 

As the little Lindley grew older, he became 
healthy, and soon had even a more than common 
share of strength and activity. He had amiable 
and tender feelings, was very grateful, and easily 
won by kindness ; but there was in him, in early 
life, a determination to maintain his own will as 
much as possible. This in later years settled 
into great firmness of character, but in childhood 
rendered him self-willed. His natural activity 
soon showed itself, for when he was not more 
than nine months old, he would get away from 
the house and wander to his father's mill, which 
was more than a hundred yards distant. 

Mrs. Murray, like every good mother, was 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 107 

very anxious to check whatever was wrong in 
her little boy, and would have frequently reproved 
his childish acts of waywardness, had not his fond 
grandmother prevented it This good lady hu- 
mored her grandson so much, that although he 
always felt grateful for her affection, he used 
afterward to say that it was well for his future 
character that an aunt interfered and took the 
charge of him. Although his aunt was fond of 
him, she was judicious, for she knew that she 
could show T him more real kindness by teaching 
him to act rightly than by allowing him to do as he 
pleased. She knew that if he formed bad habits 
in early childhood, they must afterward be cor- 
rected, and longed to see him made happy by 
being rendered obedient. She found it very diffi- 
cult at first to manage him as she wished, for 
the spoiled child had a high spirit, and was little 
disposed to submit. On one occasion, little Lind- 
ley got out of a window, and ran about over the 
roof of a building next the house. This roof 
was very high, and had he fallen from it, he 
would certainly not have survived the fall. His 
aunt was terrified at seeing her nephew in this 
perilous situation. She called to him to come 
back, telling him that he would be killed ; but 
the child was not to be restrained by fear, and 



108 DAWN1NGS OF GENIUS. 

persisted in walking about over the roof, in great 
delight at finding himself in a place where no 
one could reach him. At length his aunt began 
persuading him very tenderly to come to her; 
and although the rebellious little urchin was not 
to be frightened into obedience, yet he was moved 
by the voice of kind entreaty, and told his aunt 
he would come back if she would assure him she 
w r ould not correct him. Young as he was, he 
knew that if she made a promise, he might rely 
upon its performance, and when she engaged not 
to do this, he immediately walked toward her, 
and was taken in at the open window, to the 
great relief of his agitated friends. 

When Lindley was about six years of age, he 
was sent to a school at Philadelphia, where he 
was fortunate in having a very excellent master. 
He was fond of reading, and used at this time to 
read with peculiar pleasure the " Travels of 
Cyrus." It is rather remarkable, that the future 
grammarian should, even at this early age, have 
been fond of grammatical exercises, for few boys 
like grammar until they begin to understand 
something of its importance ; but young Murray 
was accustomed to parse sentences, not merely 
because this formed part of his task, but with a 
real feeling of pleasure in the study. 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 109 

From this school he was soon removed, as his 
parents left Philadelphia to reside for a time at 
North Carolina, and they took their little boy 
with them. The time occupied by the voyage 
to this place was, to a restless, playful child, a 
period of great weariness. Instead of the mea- 
dows about the city in which he would have 
liked to ramble, or the play-ground of the school 
in which he was used to active sport, his move- 
ments were confined to the deck of the vessel, 
or sometimes to the narrower compass of the 
cabin ; and though the sailors were very kind in 
trying to lessen the tediousness of the voyage, 
yet it seemed very long to the impatient young 
passenger. The cry of land is generally a joy- 
ful sound to those on the waters ; and so great 
was the pleasure of Lindley, when the haven 
was first seen, that he never forgot the sensations 
he then experienced even at the latter part of 
his life. 

A little act of generosity which he performed 
at this time shows that, when a child, he felt that 
gratitude for kindness which was a conspicuous 
feature in his later character, leading him ever 
to thank those who did him the slightest service 
with great warmth of feeling. One day, soon- 
after reaching the end of his voyage, while he 

10 



110 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

was wandering about, rejoicing in having re- 
gained the free use of his limbs, he happened to 
find a little parcel containing a few shillings. 
Like most schoolboys on the accession of such a 
treasure, he began considering in what way the 
money should be employed, and it directly oc- 
curred to him that the best way of spending it 
would be to buy some loaves of fresh bread for 
the sailors of the ship in which he had lately 
been. He went and bought the loaves, and the 
men were not only glad of the refreshment, but 
so thankful to the kind boy who had remember- 
ed them, that he felt much pleased at having 
spent his money on them rather than on himself. 
The family soon settled at New York, and 
when he was eight years of age, young Murray 
was sent to resume his studies in that city. He 
made good progress in his studies, but was also 
excessively fond of play ; indeed, on some occa- 
sions he used entirely to absent himself from 
school, during the hours of study, to seek his 
amusement. But he could not be quite happy 
while acting the truant. He knew that he was 
doing wrong, and dreaded that he should be de- 
tected and punished ; ana he had much difficulty 
in stilling the voice of conscience, so far as to 
derive any enjoyment. Yet, again and again he 



LINDLEY MURRAY. Ill 

was tempted by the sunny mornings to seek his 
pleasure in sport, instead of confining himself 
to the school-room. He had very little difficulty 
in learning, however, for often when he had spent 
his usual holy days in amusement, and was ex- 
pected next day to bring lessons which should 
have been prepared at these times, he would sit 
down to study them, just as his companions were 
about to repeat them, and would say them so 
correctly that his neglect was not discovered by 
his tutor. Indeed, in consequence of his ability 
to learn readily, the improvement which he made 
was so great, that he gave great satisfaction to 
the gentleman who conducted his education ; 
and Lindley, finding that he got on so well, with 
little trouble — ■ 

" It seldom came into his head, I dare say, 
To do his work first, and then afterwards play." 

Murray was remarkable, both in his youth 
and manhood, for the love and veneration with 
which he regarded the Scriptures. He took great 
pleasure in reading the sacred volume. He could 
enjoy its literary beauties — its sweet and lofty 
imagery — its simple narrative — its noble and 
elevated principles; and after his early child- 
hood, his life was guided by its commands, and 
his spirit consoled by its hopes. The circum- 



112 DAWNING S OF GENIUS. 

stance which at first drew his attention to the 
inspired writings was one upon which he always 
reflected with pleasure. A sheet of paper was 
given him, upon which he was to exhibit a speci- 
men of his best penmanship. It was a large and 
handsome paper, ornamented both at the top and 
sides with pictures representing the different 
events connected with the birth of Christ. There 
were the shepherds as they watched in the peace- 
ful field near Bethlehem, and the heavenly mes- 
sengers of the w r ondrous tidings, and the infant 
in the manger, and the bending philosophers 
from the distant East, and all the other circum- 
stances of that important period, which we have 
seen depicted by the artist till we are quite fa- 
miliar with their representation. The centre of 
the sheet was left blank for the purpose of re- 
ceiving the writing, and there were many reasons 
why it was an object of interest to the youth. 
The ornamented paper was to be his own — the 
penmanship w T as to be shown to his friends as a 
proof of his improvement ; and we cannot win- 
der that he gazed on it with delight, and care- 
fully compared the pictures with the narrative 
contained in the New Testament As he read, 
he was struck with the beauty of the Scripture 
account, and it made so great an impression upon 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 113 

his feelings, that he could never peruse the pas- 
sage afterward without deep emotion, nor with- 
out recalling to his memory the influence which 
it had upon his youthful mind. 

When Lindley was about thirteen or fourteen 
years of age, his father removed him from school, 
and as he intended bringing him up for a mer- 
chant, he placed him in his own counting-house. 
Mr. Murray, although he sincerely wished to see 
his son prosperous and happy, did not consult his 
wishes in the choice of his profession, thinking 
that he could better tell what was desirable for 
him than that one so young could determine for 
himself; but the event proved, that had he en- 
tered more fully into the feelings of the youth, 
both he and his son would have been spared much 
anxiety. Desirous of making him attentive to 
business, Mr. Murray kept him very closely en- 
gaged in the counting-house, and Lindley, w 7 ho 
had a great dislike to his employment, daily be- 
came more impatient of the restraint, and at 
length openly declared that he would rather fol- 
low 7 any business than that of a merchant. It 
was a painful thing to a young lad so situated 
to find that his father, instead of enabling him 
to acquire a knowledge of some other profession, 
persevered in insisting upon his continued appli- 

10* 



114 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

cation to this ; and young Murray became so 
restless and unhappy, that it was after some time 
thought advisable to place him with a merchant 
at some distance from home, in the expectation 
that this change might reconcile him to mer- 
cantile engagements. He w r as therefore sent to 
reside with a friend at Philadelphia, but this re- 
moval did not have the effect. His thoughts 
were busy in contrasting with his own employ- 
ment the happiness which they enjoyed w r ho were 
studying for the learned professions, or he w r as 
musing on the honors which had been obtained 
by some eminent in literature or science, and 
turning with disgust from the business of the 
counting-house ; and it was in vain that his 
friends represented to him the advantages w 7 hich 
were presented by the occupation of a merchant, 
of early obtaining wealth and respectability in 
society. 

Mr. Murray, finding that his plans had hith- 
erto failed in inducing his son to take any interest 
in the transactions in which he was engaged, at 
length resolved to try and awake a commercial 
spirit by giving him a little speculation, in which 
the profits were to be his own. He made him a 
present of a great number of silver watches, which 
weie to be a small stock in trade for him. These 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 115 

he recommended him to sell, and with the money 
to purchase some materials for further commerce. 
The prospect of acquiring a small property for 
himself in some measure aroused the interest of 
the young merchant ; and he might perhaps have 
overcome his dislike to the profession, had not an 
event occurred which was of great importance 
in the life of the youth, and might have ruined 
his happiness and prospects. 

Mr. Murray had a very high idea of filial duty, 
and sometimes made too little allowance for the 
lively spirits and active nature of his son. He 
expected an implicit obedience to his commands, 
which w T ere, however, usually reasonable, and 
which his son had not generally the wish to diso- 
bey. One very proper regulation of his father's 
w r as that Lindley should not leave the house in 
the evening without permission, and this was 
generally obtained by a request. One evening, 
however, when Mr. Murray was absent from 
home, Lindley was asked by an uncle to spend a 
few hours with him. He much washed to accept 
the invitation, and would have immediately re- 
quested leave of his father, but his absence ren- 
dered this impossible. He knew that his father 
could have no objection to the society into which 
he was invited, and as he thought that, if he had 



116 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

been at home, he would have consented to his 
going, he naturally considered that in this emer- 
gency he might venture to act for himself. When 
Mr. Murray returned he was exceedingly dis- 
pleased at finding that his son had gone out 
without obtaining leave, and next morning he 
called him into a private apartment, and re- 
proved him for disobedience. Lindley endeav- 
ored to justify himself by pleading the circum- 
stances of the case ; but his father considered 
that nothing could excuse his having broken a 
direct command. He then chastised him very 
severely, and assured him that he would inflict 
similar punishment if he ever acted thus again. 
Young Murray was high-spirited, but he had a 
strong sense of rectitude and duty, and, though 
indignant at the manner in which he had been 
punished, he would, upon reflection, have doubt- 
less submitted to parental authority could he 
have felt that his father had acted rightly. But 
he thought his conduct unkind and even unjust, 
and from that hour resolved that he would no 
longer endure this restraint, but would take the 
dangerous step of leaving his home. He knew 
that he had good abilities ; he was young and 
healthy, and, being ignorant of the w r orld, he felt 
confident that he could succeed in life, without 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 117 

the assistance of others. It was well for young 
Murray that his project was not successful to its 
full extent, for in after years this good man used 
to look back upon this act as one of great im- 
prudence and danger, and regard its prevention 
as a peculiar blessing of Providence. 

Young Murray's conduct upon this occasion 
proves that he was not relinquishing business 
from any wish to be idle ; and he determined 
upon a place of retreat, which shows that though 
he did not act quite as he should have done, yet 
that there was nothing vicious in his habits or 
disposition. He had heard that at Burlington, a 
town at some distance from New York, there was 
a seminary conducted by a master of great talent 
and excellence, and here he determined to place 
himself for study, and remain as long as his funds 
would allow. He longed to acquire more knowl- 
edge, and particularly wished to learn the French 
language, w 7 hich he thought would be useful to 
him, as he intended, after a course of study, to 
commence business. He packed up, therefore, 
his books, clothes, and all that he possessed, and 
purchasing for his present wear a suit of clothes 
quite unlike that in which he usually dressed, he 
took the opportunity of making his escape from 
home at a time when he knew that his absence 



118 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

would not create immediate suspicion. He pro- 
ceeded directly to Burlington, glad to be eman- 
cipated from harsh restraint, and full of anticipa- 
tions of the enjoyments of study. He thought 
he could now spend his time on books ; and con- 
scious of his own mental powers, he expected to 
make considerable attainments in literature. He 
had leisure, quiet, and, what indeed he liked best 
of all, was master of his own pursuits. 

Lindley Murray arrived at Burlington, and at- 
tained his wishes ; but was he happy ? Not quite 
so. Remembrances of his mother intruded upon 
his solitude. He knew well that by night and 
by day her thoughts would be upon him. He 
knew that when her daily prayers arose to heaven, 
she would plead with tears for her wandering 
boy ; and that when the family assembled at 
meal-times, she would look at his empty seat 
with an aching heart. He loved her, too, and 
felt a longing for her society : he missed those 
gentle attentions, those words of kindness, which 
are found in the family circle ; and in the midst 
of ardent hopes of future success, and the enjoy- 
ment of present comfort, he often sighed at 
thought of his mother. 

Meantime his place of refuge had been dis- 
covered by his parents, and several friends had 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 119 

remonstrated with him upon his conduct, and 
vainly endeavored to persuade him to return 
home. He commenced his studies, and contin- 
ued them with great perseverance ; when after 
some application, he thought he would indulge 
himself with a little recreation, and go for a short 
time to Philadelphia. This place was about 
twenty miles distant from his present abode, and 
he had there an intimate friend of his own age, 
Lindley met his companion, and much enjoyed 
the opportunity of mutual confidence and friend- 
ship. They parted, and the young student was 
about to return to his seminary, when, just as he 
was leaving Philadelphia, he met with a gentle- 
man who a short time before had dined at his 
father's house. He immediately recognised Lind- 
ley, and supposing that he was still living at 
home, inquired when he would be leaving Phila- 
delphia. Lindley replied that he w^as on the 
point of setting off. The gentleman then asked 
him to take charge of an important letter, with 
which he had just been to the post-office, and 
found himself too late for the post. He begged 
that he would deliver the letter personally, and 
as soon as possible. Unwilling to disclose his 
circumstances, young Murray, in the confusion 
of the moment, undertook the charge of the 



120 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

letter, without having time to consider what he 
should do with it. Many youths placed in these 
circumstances would have thought that tbey 
should not have done wrong by waiting until 
next day, and then forwarding it by the post. 
But Lindley had sentiments of honor and justice 
which forbade this. He knew that though he 
had not said he would deliver the letter, yet the 
gentleman supposed that he meant to do so, and 
he felt that breaking a promise, whether given 
or implied, was a mean and unprincipled action. 
He trembled as he thought of entering the town 
where his father lived, but his sense of duty over- 
came his fears, and he determined, that though 
he should incur some risk and expense, he would 
hire a carriage, and go to New York and fulfil 
his trust. He landed and safely delivered the 
letter ; but when he was stepping into the packet- 
boat which was to convey him back to Burling- 
ton, he was told that it would not sail till the 
next morning. Vexed at this delay, he went to 
an inn to await the time of his departure, when 
he was surprised in the course of the evening 
by seeing his uncle enter the room. Some per- 
son who knew the family had seen Lindley in 
the town, and informed this gentleman of his 
arrival. His uncle seated him with great kind- 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 121 

ness and affection, and earnestly persuaded him 
to return home. He used many arguments to 
convince him that he ought to do so, but he re- 
mained firm, until his uncle told him that his 
mother was in great sorrow on account of his 
absence, and pointed out the unkindness of leav- 
ing the town without even visiting her. The 
better feelings of his nature then overcame his 
resentment, and he determined to spend a few 
hours alone with her. 

How many a wanderer has been recalled home 
by the recollection of his mother's sorrow on his 
account ! How often the wild and wayward 
youth has been reclaimed at sight of parental 
tenderness and grief ! Even the unhappy man, 
whose crimes have brought upon him the punish- 
ment of the laws of his country, can better bear 
public disgrace than the loss of the good opinion 
of her who was his first and best earthly friend. 
Miss Martineau mentions, that when she visited 
the prison of Auburn, in the United States, there 
were men there who, though criminal, had not 
forgotten their early ties. " Several," says this 
lady, a told me more about their mothers than 
about anything else in their former lives ; and 
those who were tried under false names seemed 

11 



122 DAWN1NGS OF GENIUS. 

more afraid of their mothers' knowing where 
they were, than of any other consequences." 

Young Murray, having now resolved upon 
visiting his home, chose a time for doing so when 
he thought that his father would be absent. His 
mother received him with much emotion, and her 
pale countenance plainly showed the traces of 
suffering and anxiety. Lindley w T as deeply af- 
fected by seeing this, and w T as just giving way to 
his feelings, when, to his great surprise, his father 
entered the room. For a moment resentment 
arose to his mind, and almost overcame the ten- 
derness he had just before experienced. Con- 
fused and vexed, he received his father wdth a 
cold and embarrassed air ; but Mr. Murray ad- 
vanced kindly towards him, and tenderly saluted 
him. The pride which opposition w r ould only 
have increased Avas subdued by kindness, and 
when his father expressed his joy at seeing him 
again, the youth felt glad that he was once more 
beneath the paternal roof, and felt that his late 
absence had much endeared to him both his home 
and its familiar faces. It was indeed well for 
him that he returned to the care of his friends, 
for he was but fourteen years old, and though a 
boy of much thought and determination, yet he 
was too inexperienced to be his own guide. He 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 123 

now settled at home, and his parents never spoke 
of the trouble he had caused them, but very gen- 
erously avoided any allusion to his past conduct. 
A person was sent to Burlington, to settle his 
affairs there, and to bring away his clothes and 
other property : and thus happily ended an affair 
which might, by its rashness, have led him into 
ruin, and brought his mother with sorrow to the 
grave. 

Not only had young Murray learned an im- 
portant lesson from this event, but it had also 
served to convince his father that he must in 
future avoid harsh methods in his management 
Lindley now requested that he might pursue his 
classical studies under a private tutor, and his 
father immediately supplied him with one. He 
was now very happy. From early morning, 
even till midnight, he was engaged in study. 
His tutor was intelligent, and literature had 
charms for the young student which could well 
compensate for the absence of mirth and amuse- 
ment. He felt that he was improving. New 
facts, new ideas, seemed every day to present 
themselves ; and his mind both acquired and re- 
tained them with increasing power. As Dr. 
Johnson has said, " the acquisition of knowledge 
is in itself a pleasure," and the enthusiasm of the 



124 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

youth led him to enter with earnest delight upon 
the perusal of the works of those whose voices 
are silent in the tomb, yet whose written words 
shall live for ever. For a while exercise was 
neglected, but his declining health soon warned 
him that if he wished for vigor of body and ac- 
tivity of mind, he must fulfil one of the laws of 
his nature, and occasionally relinquish study, and 
seek exercise and air. By persevering in walk- 
ing out, he regained his health, which he well 
knew it was his duty, as well as his interest, to 
preserve. 

We are very apt to think that our health is so 
entirely our own, that, if we choose to waste it, 
we are the only sufferers. But we are all sent 
into the world to act as well as think ; and, as 
Lord Bacon has said, " In this theatre of man's 
life, God and angels only should be lookers on." 
But active usefulness is in most cases prevented 
by illness. It is the duty of us all to add as much 
as possible to the cheerfulness and comfort of 
society ; but how shall we do this if our languid 
frames and aching heads render us only fit for 
*he sick couch ? If the Almighty sends us sick- 
ness, then we may cheerfully remember that 
they also serve who only stand and wait," but 
if it come on us through the neglect of the means 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 125 

of health, then we bring to ourselves sorrow, 
ind to our friends inconvenience and anxiety. 

The great veneration in which Lindley Murray 
always held the Sacred Volume led him to study 
many works which explain it, or which prove 
that it was penned by writers inspired by a Di- 
vine author. He made himself acquainted with 
the works of the most eminent divines on these 
subjects. He now joined a society of young men 
who met together to discuss literary questions, 
and he was well known to his companions as the 
fearless and conscientious advocate of the truths 
of Revelation. 

It was not until young Murray was in his 
eighteenth year that he determined on following 
the profession of the law. His father was sorry 
that he made this choice. He thought that this 
business presented temptations to wrong, which 
a youth might find it difficult to resist. He re- 
minded his son that, as he was connected with 
the Society of Friends, any deviation from the 
strictest virtue and integrity would dishonor that 
religious community ; while he again pointed out 
to him the prospects he had of success in life if 
he could consent to be a merchant. But Lindley 
thought that the mercantile employment would 
not allow time for study, while the profession of 

11* 



126 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS 

a lawyer would not only admit it, but render it 
indispensable. He wrote a long letter to his 
father, in which he replied to all the arguments 
he had advanced. This letter Mr. Murray showed 
to his friends, and among others to his own pro- 
fessional adviser, who was a lawyer of ability and 
integrity. He seconded the arguments of the 
young man, and his father then placed him with 
this gentleman, to whom he paid a large sum as 
premium. Mr. Murray soon afterward made his 
son a present of an extensive and excellent 
library, containing, besides numerous volumes on 
general literature, a good collection of law books. 

The young lawyer soon made good progress 
in the knowledge of his profession, and was upon 
the whole well satisfied with it \ yet he found it 
was not quite so delightful a study as he had 
fancied it. He found that he had to acquaint 
himself with many things which were very un- 
interesting, and to examine much which was 
very perplexing. 

Many wearisome details had to be digested, 
and long cases pondered over, which, though 
they might interest him by exercising his intel - 
lectual acuteness, were little fitted to gratify his 
taste for general literature. Several of our great 
lawyers have been eminent also as literary men : 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 127 

yet few, like Lindley Murray's great contempo- 
rary, Lord Erskine, have united to legal science 
so great a power of beautiful expression as that 
their works on the subject of law could afford 
much gratification to the general taste of their 
readers. The old volumes over which Murray 
had to pore, were seldom enlivened by eloquence 
like that of this eminent lawyer, whose pure and 
classical English could win attention to details, 
which, in the hands of most writers, would be 
tedious and unpleasing. But though the subject 
of our narrative felt less delight in his profession 
than he had previously expected, yet he perse- 
vered in his pursuit, and at the latter end of four 
years' study, was called to the bar. He early 
married an excellent lady, to whom through life 
he was tenderly attached. 

The acquisition of riches was never at any 
time the object of Lindley Murray's wishes ; and 
as he in a few years obtained a competent for- 
tune, he retired from business at an early age, in 
order that he might have leisure to do good to 
others : but an illness, which deprived him of 
muscular strength, rendered him for the remain- 
der of his days almost a prisoner to his house. 
He was not absolutely ill, but so weak and deli- 
cate that, during the last sixteen years of his life 5 



128 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS 

he never left his own dwelling, and could seldom 
bear the air from an open window. During these 
years he was employed in writing those w r orks 
which have been so useful to the young, and 
from some of which the advanced student de- 
rives both pleasure and improvement. The most 
excellent precepts are inculcated in all his wri- 
tings. Even the sentences in the school-book, 
familiarly called " Murray's Exercises," are ar- 
ranged with a view not only of teaching the 
pupil grammar, but of conveying many beautiful 
sentiments expressed with taste and elegance. 
The first work which he published w r as called 
" The Power of Religion on the Mind," and as 
his sole motive for writing it was to benefit oth- 
ers, he printed it at his own expense, and sent 
copies of it, nicely bound, as presents to the prin- 
cipal inhabitants in York, near which town he 
came to live, and remained till his death. The 
money he received from his numerous other 
books he devoted entirely to charitable purposes. 
The whole of the writings of this great man 
were composed under circumstances in which 
none but a mind of considerable energy and in- 
dustry would have made any exertion. The 
days spent in bodily inaction were occupied by 
mental exercise ; and instead of a languid and 



LINDLEY MURRAY. 129 

weary existence, his was a life of cheerful hap- 
piness. 

Oh ! how often do our hearts fill with gladness 
as we feel the spring breezes reviving our frames, 
and we listen to the many joyous voices of birds, 
and of the young lambs of the meadow, or re- 
joice in the scent of the hidden violet ! How 
seldom do we, as we roam under the bright sun- 
shine, pause to remember that there are thou- 
sands to whom sickness denies the pleasure we 
enjoy, who love the fair face of nature as well 
as we, and who would no less delight to bound 
across the meadow, or to sit and listen by the 
brook ! But when we revel in the health and 
joy of youth, we should sometimes ask ourselves 
what would be our resources if strength and ac- 
tivity were taken from us ? Years, long years 
were passed by Lindley Murray in his quiet se- 
clusion, yet they were years of unrepining cheer- 
fulness, spent in comfort to himself, and in kind- 
ness and consolation to others. No murmur ever 
escaped his lips. His friends had not to listen to 
mournful longings that he might enjoy the active 
pleasures in which he once delighted, but with 
the meek acquiescence of the Christian he ac- 
knowledged with gratitude the many blessings 



130 



DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 



which God had still left him, and resigned him- 
self calmly into the hand of his Maker. 

Lindley Murray died at Holgate, near York, 
in 1826. 




THE RIGHT HONORABLE SIR 
JAMES MACKINTOSH. 




HE great lawyer and politi- 
cian, Sir James Mackintosh, 
was born in 1765 ; the year 
which gave birth also to Bar- 
on Cuvier, Sir Walter Scott, 
and the Duke of Wellington. 
J^j| His native place was Aldow- 
rie, on the banks of Loch 



(* Ness, near the town of Inverness 
in Scotland. 

The father of Sir James was a 
captain in the army, and belonged 
to a family several of whom had been 
distinguished by military glory. The 
early days of young Mackintosh were 
not watched over by a father's eye, for 
soon after the birth of his little boy, Captain 
Mackintosh joined his regiment in the West In- 
dies, leaving him to the care of his mother. Mrs. 
Mackintosh was not happy during the childhood 
of her son. The long separation from her hus- 



132 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

band was a source of grief, and her trouble was 
increased by the pecuniary circumstances in which 
she was left. Captain Mackintosh required for 
his own expenses all his pay as an officer ; and 
his wife went with her child to reside with her 
mother and sisters. Her own family tenderly 
loved both her and the infant, yet the feeling of 
dependance often depressed her spirits ; and she 
was glad to turn from her sad thoughts to the 
smiling face of her child, and to devote all her 
time to watching over him. How much a moth- 
er's care did for the little Jamie cannot be said, 
but it is most likely that his early intelligence 
was greatly promoted by it, as well as by that 
of the little circle to w T hom he soon became the 
chief object of interest. His grandmother was 
a woman of great powers of mind, and both she 
and his aunts bestowed much attention and ten- 
derness on their young relative. The residence 
of these ladies was a small house called Clune, 
and was situated in a retired and beautiful spot. 
Sir James, in later life, thus describes the scene 
of his early days : " I can now, even at the dis- 
tance of twenty years and fifteen thousand miles, 
call before me with great distinctness the pros- 
pect from the window of our little parlor ; of the 
lake with its uninterrupted expanse of twenty- 



SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 133 

four miles, and its walls of perpendicular wooded 
rock ; the road that leads down to the cottage, 
all its windings, all the smallest objects on each 
side of it : the little path where we walked down 
the burn, and the turf seat where we rested, are 
more present to my fancy than any other object 
in nature." 

In this lovely seclusion, surrounded by many 
who observed with interest his every action, and 
listened with pleasure to his earliest lispings, 
young Mackintosh passed his life happily until 
he was ten years of age, when he was sent to a 
school at a small town called Fortrose. The 
master under whose care he was placed was a 
man of good attainments, and his young pupil 
pursued his studies with success ; but the chief 
circumstance w T hich impressed his mind at this 
school was the frequent disputes which occurred 
between one of the ushers and the wife of the 
schoolmaster, upon some religious topics. It 
could scarcely have been supposed that a child 
of this age would have listened to discussions of 
this kind ; but young Mackintosh marked every 
word, and considered the arguments advanced on 
both sides ; and though he had little knowledge 
of the subject in dispute, he ventured both to 
form and openly declare his opinions. Sir James 

12 



134 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

used afterward to say, that these conversations 
had a tendency to awaken his mind to inquiry, 
and to give him a taste for argument. Perhaps 
it would have been better for one so young and 
comparatively ignorant, if he had been learning 
the most important truths of religion, on which 
there is in the Christian community a genera] 
agreement, than that his attention should have 
been directed to minute speculations on doc- 
trines, on which there exists so much variety of 
sentiment. 

During the time he was at Fortrose, he used 
often to visit a gentleman with whom his family 
were acquainted, — Mr. Mackenzie, of Suddie. 
This gentleman possessed a good deal of knowl- 
edge, and was remarkably humorous, and James 
enjoyed visiting him. His head being fall of 
controversies on different creeds, he borrowed 
from his kind friend a book on theology ; and 
the young school-boy soon became absorbed in 
the study of " Burnet's Commentary on the Thir- 
ty-nine Articles of the Church of England." This 
work has excited much dispute among the reli- 
gious parties of different times, and it was, when 
first published by the bishop, condemned by the 
Low r er House of Convocation, as containing sen- 
timents which they disapproved. It treats of 



SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 135 

subjects upon which the wise, and the learned, 
and the good have differed ; and rarely has the 
Commentary been considered by a child as a 
book which was written for his perusal, or which 
contained any knowledge which he would care 
to acquire. 

But although the various forms and doctrines 
of religion were the most pleasing subjects of 
study to James, yet he valued and sought after 
every kind of knowledge. He used to read with 
delight the characters of great men contained in 
" Plutarch's Lives," and the stirring events re- 
corded in " Echard's Roman History." The lat- 
ter w T ork occupied much of his thoughts in his 
solitary hours. Day after day he would muse 
alone upon some of the incidents it related, in- 
dulging in a kind of day-dream, in which he 
fancied himself the emperor of Constantinople. 
Sometimes in the course of his revery he pic- 
tured himself as bestowing offices and provinces 
on his school-fellows, who in these musings 
seemed his subjects ; at other times he was in- 
flicting the weight of his power on those boys 
whom he did not like, by giving them some 
punishment and depriving them of the honorable 
places in his empire. These reveries were doubt- 
less very amusing, yet they had the effect of in- 



136 DATVNINGS OF GENIUS. 

creasing an indolent and dreaming state of mind 
to which he was liable. 

The thoughts of young Mackintosh were in- 
deed generally much occupied with the subject 
of the last book he had studied. He read a great 
deal, and was seldom to be met with without a 
book in his hand. During the vacation, which 
he spent with his family at Clune, he would often 
wander away from home, and, taking with him 
his dinner and his book, go to some nook, where 
the brow of the hill or the foliage of a tree shel- 
tered him from the sun, and amid the quietness 
of nature spend the whole day in acquiring 
knowledge. When sometimes he looked up from 
his book, to indulge in his reveries, or to pursue 
a train of argument in his own mind, here was 
nothing to interrupt him. The clouds were 
passing silently above him ; the murmurs of the 
lake were scarcely more audible; and even though 
the bees might hum, and the birds were singing, 
yet he heard them not, for his mind was full of 
thoughts of heroes and statesmen, or he was 
speculating upon the mind of man, and delight- 
ing in the wonders of philosophy ; and his book 
and his solitary thoughts had for him a more in- 
tense charm than even the beauties of earth and 
water which lay around him 



SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 137 

Every one who knew James Mackintosh felt 
that he was an extraordinary child ; he knew so 
much, and thought so much, and his employ- 
ments and conversation were so much more like 
those of a man than a boy, that his friends look- 
ed forward with great confidence to his becoming 
a great man — one to whom some day his coun- 
try would listen. An old Scotch female servant, 
who attended him, would however sometimes say, 
by way of preventing his becoming conceited, 
" Wait a while ; its no aye that wise bairns mak' 
wise men." 

Among the books which he found at his grand- 
mother's, and which took their turns in being 
made the companions of his wanderings, were 
the works of Swift and Pope. The first poetry 
he ever read was " Pope's Pastorals." He soon 
became fond of poetry, and through life delighted 
in it, and in making it the subject of his criti- 
cism and conversation. The pleasure which he 
felt in reading it tempted him to write verse, and 
at twelve years of age, he wrote an elegy on his 
uncle, Brigad.er-general Frazer, who had been 
killed shortly before. 

A gentleman, who well knew young Mackin- 
tosh about this time, says of him, that he was the 
most clever boy that ever came under his notice. 

13* 



138 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

Even at this early age his taste for politics and 
political discussion had already showed itself very 
plainly. While Fox and Lord North were 
arresting the attention of the nation by their de- 
bates upon the American war, the young school- 
boy had declared himself a Whig, and persuaded 
his older school-fellows to leave trap-ball and 
other boyish sports to their juniors, and to join 
him in arguing on the political events of the times. 
The youthful politicians had indeed but few op- 
portunities of hearing in what light these events 
were considered by the different parties in the 
kingdom, for their only source of information 
was the " Aberdeen Journal," a weekly paper 
which was taken in by the rector. Nothing 
daunted, however, by their scanty knowledge, 
they formed themselves into a little assembly, 
which they called the House of Commons, and 
having designated the master's pulpit their tri- 
bune, the young orators mounted it and gave 
their opinions. Mackintosh would harangue till 
his voice was spent. Sometimes he was Fox, 
at others he represented Burke, or any other 
speaker whose eloquence he admired. If any 
one opposed him, he had arguments ready for 
his defence, but if all his companions were silent, 
he would change sides, and calling himself Lord 



SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 139 

North, would attack what he considered the 
strongest arguments on his own side. " When 
I found out," says Mr. Wood, (the gentleman 
just referred to,) " this singular amusement of 
boys, I had the curiosity to listen when Jamie 
was on his legs. I was surprised and delighted 
with his eloquence in the character of Fox, 
against some supposed or real measure of the 
prime minister. His voice, though feeble, was 
musical, and his arguments so forcible that they 
would have done credit to many an adult." 

Young Mackintosh, although a warm sup- 
porter of the politics he had thought proper to 
adopt, was too generous to suffer his earnestness 
on this subject to lessen his friendship for those 
who differed from him. Even in boyhood he 
learned, what in later life he never forgot, that 
those who have other opinions than ourselves on 
some points, may yet possess excellences which 
will render their acquaintance valuable, and that 
we have no right to be offended with any person 
because he does not think as we do, or to fancy 
that he must be less wise or good than ourselves 
on this account. His chief friend at this time 
was a youth about his own age — John, after- 
ward Major-general Mackenzie, who fell at the 
battle of Talavera. The two boys took oppo- 



140 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

site sides in their political debates, but they 
would wander together for hours about the fields, 
and there rehearse to each other the arguments 
which each was to produce more fully at the 
meeting of their miniature parliament. 

The first schoolmaster at Fortrose having died, 
he was succeeded by one of the ushers, who was 
so very indulgent, that young Mackintosh was 
allowed to learn or be idle as he pleased. It 
was always the case with the latter, both in 
youth and manhood, that though ardent in the 
pursuit of knowledge, he was not fond of regular 
study, but loved to read whenever he liked, and 
whatever took his fancy. His master now em- 
ployed him in instructing the younger pupils, 
who were probably the better satisfied with their 
young teacher, as he had already acquired 
throughout the neighborhood a considerable 
reputation for learning. A learned professor of 
Aberdeen, who was visiting at Sir Alexander 
Mackenzie's, was one morning rambling about, 
when he met with the little boy, whose appear- 
ance so much struck him, that on his return home 
he mentioned him to his friend. Upon hearing 
his name, Sir Alexander replied, " Everybody 
knows that boy — that Jamie Mackintosh ;" in- 
deed all the neighbors knew and accounted him 
a prodigy of learning. 



SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 141 

Some of his vacations were spent at the house 
of an uncle, Mr. Mackintosh of Farr. This 
gentleman, knowing the habits of study which 
his nephew had, was so fearful that in some of 
his nightly readings he should set his bed on fire, 
that he ordered his housekeeper to place in his 
night candlestick a very small piece of candle 
But young Mackintosh was more inclined to pur- 
sue his studies than to yield to the commands of 
his uncle ; and was in the habit of bribing the 
housekeeper to evade the injunction, and give 
him a w 7 hole candle : so that when Mr. Mackin- 
tosh thought the youth was safely in bed, he was 
often sitting over his books in his chamber. 

During the time that he was at Fortrose, he 
played off a frolic on his master and school- 
fellows, in order to ascertain the degree of their 
regard for him. He wrote a letter to the master 
of the school in the handwriting of his uncle, 
which he skilfully imitated, announcing his own 
death. But a plain unvarnished tale would not 
have satisfied the mischievous little writer. He 
gave therefore a very affecting detail, stating that, 
while gathering hazel-nuts for his school- fellows, 
he had fallen over a rock, by which he had been 
dreadfully mangled, and that he had now died 
in consequence. The letter was read with many 



142 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

tears, and its young author was well pleased at 
finding that the tale of his untimely end had 
caused his companions so much sorrow. 

When he was fourteen years of age, James 
parted with his kind mother, whose care and 
tenderness he was not destined again to expe- 
rience. Mrs. Mackintosh went to Plymouth to 
meet her husband, and soon after accompanied 
him to Gibraltar, and she never revisited her 
native land. She did not forget her son when 
far away, but wrote to him thence, giving him 
an account of a battle at which she was present, 
and sending him in her last letter two bank- 
notes, which seemed to the school-boy " an in- 
exhaustible treasure." 

About this time he was much occupied in wri- 
ting verses. One piece especially was an object 
of much thought and interest to him : it was 
an epic poem, founded on a narrative given in 
" Rollin's Ancient History," of the defence of 
Cyprus, by Evagoras, king of Salamis, against 
the Persian army. Great Britain was at that time 
threatened with invasion, and the youth thought 
that this heroic defence offered a noble example 
to his countrymen. His patriotism was quite 
alive at this time, and was poured forth in lofty 
strains of enthusiasm in this composition. 






SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 143 

It would have been well, both for himself and 
others, if the young poet had confined his at- 
tempts to the celebration of noble deeds ; but he 
at this time incurred much trouble by writing 
poetry of which the subject cannot be approved. 
A lady in the town in which he lived, and from 
whom he had received much kindness, amused 
herself by composing a satire on some of the 
most important persons of the place. Young 
Mackintosh turned this satire into verse, and as 
it was shown to several neighbors, it became 
known to the persons concerned, and caused 
much commotion among the society of the little 
town. As great offence was taken at this pro- 
duction, the young lady w T ho wrote it found her- 
self involved in an action at law. Her young 
friend, who, in his admiration of her general 
character, lost sight of the impropriety of this 
one action, became quite her champion, and by 
every argument in his power warmly defended 
her conduct in the families in which he visited. 

When he was fifteen years of age, James 
Mackintosh quitted his school and companions 
at Fortrose, to enter on college duties, and min- 
gle in the wider circle of college acquaintances. 
He was sent to Aberdeen, and soon became as 
remarkable there as he had been at Fortrose fo. 



144 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

his extraordinary talents, and decided political 
opinions. One of the most lasting friendships 
of his life was here formed with the celebrated 
Robert Hall, at that time a fellow-student, after- 
ward a dissenting minister at Cambridge, and a 
man of singular genius. At the period when 
they became acquainted, Mackintosh was in his 
eighteenth year, and Hall a year older. The 
two young men were constant companions, read- 
ing and walking together daily. Their opinions 
differed upon many topics, and these differences 
were the subjects of frequent discussion ; yet, 
though they were thus continually opposing each 
other's sentiments, neither was ever offended by 
the warmth and eagerness of his opponent. Their 
mutual regard was strengthened by intercourse, 
and never, until one of them died, did this friend- 
ship change or cool. Mr. Mackintosh used to 
say he loved Mr. Hall because he could not help 
it. He was at first attracted by his brilliant ge- 
nius, but afterward became attached to him for 
his earnestness, sincerity, and frankness ; and felt 
a great reverence for the purity of his principles. 
On the other hand, Hall used to say of Mackin- 
tosh, that no man of modern times possessed a 
'Mind so similar to that of the immortal Lord 
Bacoft Among the works which they studied 



SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 145 

together were those of Xenophon, Herodotus, 
and Plato ; and they usad after their readings to 
walk together by the seashore, or take their seats 
on the banks of the Don, and talk over the sub- 
ject of their studies. Their class-fellows as they 
saw them pass would often say, " There go Plato 
and Herodotus." The two young men also 
formed, with others, a literary society in King's 
College, which used to be called jocosely, " The 
Hall and Mackintosh club." Many years after 
these events, when " seas between them broad 
had rolled," Sir James wrote from Bombay to 
his friend Robert Hall, inviting him to India, and 
offering him a home in his house. 

Mr. Mackintosh was also known at Aberdeen 
by the name of " the Poet," or " Poet Mackin- 
tosh ;" but he had now left off writing verses, 
and quita disclaimed any pretensions to the title. 
Had he been called the Philosopher, it would 
have better suited both his character and his 
liking. 

The reputation for learning which had distin- 
guished his boyhood never left him when he took 
his place among men. Many young men of 
talent were with him at college, and h$ stood 
among the highest in reputation. After taking 
his degree of Master of Arts, he left Aberdeen in 

13 



146 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

order to commence some profession. He says of 
himself, that he had at this time " little regular 
and exact knowledge, but considerable activity 
of mind, and boundless literary ambition." He 
wished to study the law, but an education for the 
bar was too expensive for his father's fortune, he 
therefore determined that he would become a 
bookseller. He knew that then the works of all 
authors would come into his hands, and he fan- 
cied that he should pass his life happily in study- 
ing them. To him no scene w T as more delightful 
than a library — no fragrance so pleasing as the 
scent of a new book ; while he considered that, 
as a bookseller, he would have constant inter- 
course with literary men. But a cousin from 
London, w T ho was then visiting the Highlands, 
and who better knew the world of business than 
did the young student, soon dispelled some of his 
illusions. He told him that a considerable amount 
of money was required by a bookseller for the 
establishment and continuance of his business, 
and assured him that he would find little time for 
literary occupation, and must be content to make 
his ledger his chief study. 

After some deliberation, young Mackintosh 
determined on entering a course of study for the 
medical profession, and consequently went to 



SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 147 

Edinburgh. Here, as at Aberdeen, he found 
that his great talents met with a ready acknowl- 
edgment, and he soon became the companion of 
the most eminent men of that city. Though at 
this time he indulged too freely in convivial pleas- 
ures, yet he was so ardent a lover of reading, 
that often in the midst of the mirth of the table 
he would produce a book, and call the attention 
of his companions to the beauties of the classics. 
His vacations were generally spent w T ith some 
relations near Inverness, and he would there 
roam about among the hills which surrounded 
the home of his childhood, lost in thought, and 
quite inattentive to all about him. Like most 
persons who indulge in solitary musings, he ac- 
quired an habitual absence of mind, which was 
well known to his friends. One day his aunt, 
Mrs. Fraser, missed the key of a cupboard which 
she wanted to open immediately, as it contained 
wine and other refreshments, which she required 
for some visiters who had called at the house. 
After having searched high and low for this key, 
it occurred to her that as she had just before been 
talking with her nephew, he had probably car- 
ried it off in a fit of musing. A servant was 
sent after him, and found him a little way from 
the house bathing in a stream, and feeling his 



148 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

pulse to ascertain the change which would be 
produced in its motion by the immersion of his 
body in water. On a stone close by lay his 
watch, and on another were his clothes, — and 
upon searching his waistcoat pocket the lost key 
was discovered. 

Mr. Mackintosh obtained his diploma and 
commenced practice as a physician in London. 
He soon became publicly known by his politi- 
cal writings, the first of which he published at 
twenty-six years of age. It was a reply to 
Burke's " Reflections on the French Revolution." 
This was the well-known " Vindiciae Gallicae." 

He soon relinquished the profession of medi- 
cine for that of the law, and finally became an 
eminent barrister. He was also a good writer 
upon general literature ; and an essay which he 
wrote, as introductory to some valuable lectures 
on the law of nature and nations, is thought by 
some great critics to have placed him at the head 
of the writers of the age. His last work, the 
" History of England," he did not live to com- 
plete ; it had reached its third volume when its 
author died. 

Sir James spent eight years of his life in India, 
as Recorder of Bombay. His residence abroad 
was cheered during the greater portion of the 



SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 149 

time, by the presence of his wife and family ; 
and when her health required the return of Lady 
Mackintosh and their children to England, he 
felt all the longings, for home which our country- 
men are so apt to feel in their Indian residence. 

a For who in Indian bower hath stood, 
But thought on England's good greenwood ? 
And bless'd, amidst the palmy shades, 
Her hazel and her hawthorn glades ; 
And breathed a prayer — how oft in vain — 
To gaze upon her oaks again." 

Sir James was twenty years of his life in par- 
liament, and as a public man was never swerved 
by any consideration of selfish interest from the 
principles he professed. His domestic and social 
character was very amiable. He had a gentle- 
ness of temper which made him shrink from giving 
pain, and he loved and admired excellence wher- 
ever he found it. It has been said of him by a 
competent judge, that " he was an elegant wri- 
ter, a consummate master of metaphysics and 
moral philosophy ; a profound historian, an ac- 
complished orator." To this may be added, that 
his learning was not confined to the writings of 
ancient authors, nor to a thorough acquaintance 
with those of the English language ; but that 
foreign literature, especially French and German, 

13* 



150 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

was as familiar to him as the writings of his na- 
tive land. 

He died in London in 1832 ; his last illness 
having been occasioned by his swallowing a por- 
tion of the bone of a chicken, which injured his 
throat. His remains lie interred in the parish 
church of Hampstead. 




ADAM CLARKE, LL.D., F.A.S., &c., &c. 

$& ]^*^S S ^^Q T is a very common thing for 
^^k^UkgJ^L persons to predict of a child 
X^ V ^S^^^ < ^^ at a very early age much of 
tM^^N^K^^S ^is future capacity. The lit— 

^■ ( , ^ ^m ^ e crea ^ ure wno as ^ s q ues " 

Rf^^^^Cjir ^ ons wmcn weary and per- 
4£SS^!^SFY P^ ex ^ s nurse 5 or wno s ^ews 
fj^f^^0?^ ' his toys in fragments over the 
Op^iijP floor, having broken them that he 
JWr^&sMis^ ma ^ discover now they are made ; 
[m^^^mjmf^ or wno s ^ s over ms book trying to 
1^^^^^^ master his alphabet, is pronounced 
rJJ^\Iw likely to be a clever boy. This, per- 
s&m^ haps, is oftener right than the opposite 
§kw* conclusion, that the child who seems to 
^ have but little curiosity and an inapti- 
tude for learning will never at any part of his life 
possess talents. Faculties often exist in the mind 
which have not discovered themselves, because 
as yet the child has not felt any particular inter- 
est in the subjects presented to him : or it may be 
that he is slow of apprehension, and is long be- 



152 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

fore he fully understands anything, while, if once 
his mind comprehends it, he has a more clear and 
correct impression than the bright and clever 
child who perceives things at a glance. The un- 
happy poet Chatterton was unable, even at seven 
years of age, to learn the alphabet, and his moth- 
er was distressed by his incapacity ; and yet in 
early youth his poetic genius was unquestioned. 
Thomson was called at school a dull boy, yet his 
delightful poems of the " Seasons," and still more 
delightful " Castle of Indolence," have so charm- 
ed the world that many a pilgrimage has been 
made by the poet to his lowly grave at Rich- 
mond ; and often the tear of affectionate regret 
has been dropped by strangers on his tomb. 

It might have been supposed that one who, 
like Dr. Clarke, possessed in manhood an im- 
mense store of learning, would have been re- 
markable even in infancy for his love of books. 
Yet there was not any disposition for learning to 
read at an early age, and none who knew the 
little child would have foretold his future scholar- 
ship. 

Adam Clarke was born about the year 1760, 
at an obscure village in Ireland, called Moybeg, 
in the county of Londonderry. His father, Mr. 
John Clarke, M. A., was schoolmaster of the 






DR. ADAM CLARKE. 153 

parish, and a man of great classical attainments ; 
but as the income arising from his school was 
very small, he was compelled to cultivate a farm, 
a ad devote to it the hours in which he was not 
engaged in teaching. Adam was his second son. 
The elder child had spent the years of his infancy 
with an indulgent uncle, w T ho had spoiled him 
very much. He was a remarkably fine boy, and 
when his mother received him home again, she 
bestowed more tenderness and affection upon him 
than on her younger son ; though happily this 
unwise preference never lessened the mutual re- 
gard of the brothers. Adam therefore met with 
few caresses, and was reproved for his faults with 
a degree of severity. Yet his parents, though 
strict, acted so as to gain his love and reverence ; 
for many years afterwards, when this great man 
was in middle life, he would take off his hat 
whenever he passed through the churchyard 
where his father lay buried. When his mother 
died, too, though he was then in advanced years 
and surrounded by a large family, yet the news 
of her decease came unexpectedly, and it turn- 
ed his cheek pale and made his lips quiver ; he 
spoke not a word, but silently raising his eyes 
to Heaven, he retired into the solitude of his 
chamber to weep there. 



154 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

The little Irish boy had a fine robust frame 
and healthy constitution ; and as little nursing 
was bestowed upon him, he very soon learned to 
take care of himself. Before he was nine months 
old he would wander about alone in a field near 
his father's house. He used to love to watch 
the snow as its feathery flakes fell from the dark 
clouds to the earth, and in childish fondness he 
would call it his brother. Nothing delighted 
him more than to get out upon the snowy ground 
w T hen the recent storm had clad all Nature in 
white. The little hardy boy cared nothing for 
snow or wind ; but would often steal aw T ay from 
his warm bed in the early morning with no other 
covering than his shirt; and taking a piece of 
w r ood for his shovel, would dig holes in the snow, 
call them rooms, and then sit down in this naked 
condition, rejoicing in the chilling home of his 
own making. A more delicate frame would have 
sunk under this exposure to weather, but he grew 
up very strong, and his excellent constitution 
was rendered more robust by encountering the 
hardships of life, and was better fitted for the 
great exertions which in manhood he had to 
make. He used often to amuse his parents and 
neighbors by his feats of strength, for he could 
with ease roll large stones over the ground which 
few children could have even shaken. 



DR. ADAM 'CLARKE. 155 

The father of Mr. Clarke had, soon after 
Adam's birth, promised to take the entire charge 
of him. As early therefore as the child could 
leave his mother, he was sent to be under the 
care of his grandmother. But the little boy had 
already become used to an active and roving life, 
and liked far better to spend his time under the 
hedges and in the fields, collecting stones and 
piling them into heaps, or running after the birds 
or animals on his father's farm, than to sit quietly 
by the side of his grandmother in her still parlor. 
There was a draw-well, too, upon the premises, 
into which little Adam was particularly fond of 
peeping ; and his aged relative, worn out with 
the necessity of constantly following his restless 
footsteps, and being kept in perpetual fear lest her 
wild grandson should, in some unguarded moment, 
fall into the well, was at length obliged to resign 
her charge, and send him home to his parents. 

When about five years of age, he had the small- 
pox ; and as it was usual at that time to keep 
persons affected with this complaint from any air, 
the curtains were drawn, and the young patient 
loaded with blankets. But no fear of reproof 
could keep the restless child in bed, and several 
times, when covered with this disease, and burn- 
ing with the fever which accompanies it, he 



156 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

shook the clothing off him and ran out in the 
open air, enjoying the relief of the fresh breezes. 
Onward he went, running along as if in health, 
though his little feet were so tender from the 
effects of the complaint that he suffered pain 
from every step he made. 

There was one fanciful antipathy taken by the 
child, which, as it led to an amusing incident, is 
worth recording. He had a great dislike to large 
fat men, and could not be persuaded to attach 
himself to any person who was very stout, what- 
ever kindness might be shown him by such an 
individual. There w T as a gentleman living near 
his father's house, a Mr. Pearce Quinlin, who 
was remarkably corpulent, and consequently the 
object of his antipathy. Mr. Quinlin tried to 
win the regard of his young neighbor by little 
gifts and other acts of friendship, but nothing 
could prevail on Adam to be on sociable terms 
with him. One day a man, who was a pretended 
fortune-teller (called by the Irish a spae-man), 
called at Mr. Clarke's house and offered to tell 
the family their future destinies. The man was 
deaf and dumb ; and the Irish peasantry believe, 
in common with many others, that where the 
Almighty has denied to any person the power of 
speech, he has bestowed upon him, by way of 



DR. ADAM CLARKE. 157 

compensation for the defect, the extraordinary 
power of looking into futurity. This man had 
consequently acquired great reputation in the 
neighborhood, and was said to have accurately 
predicted many things which had since happened. 
Adam stood looking at the fortune-teller with 
silent wonder, which the man observing, he made 
signs to him that he would one day be enormously 
fat and very fond of the bottle. Poor Adam was 
seized with horror at this intimation. To grow 
fat — to love liquor — these w 7 ere evils which he 
dreaded from his inmost soul. He had seen a 
drunken man, and looked on him with disgust, 
and fearing lest the prediction of the spae-man 
should be correct, and at the same time believing 
that God could avert the ill, the poor little fellow 
ran out into a field, and failing dow T n on his knees 
behind some furze-bushes, innocently uttered the 
following prayer : " Lord God, have mercy 
upon me, and never suffer me to become like 
Pearce Quinlin !" The prophecy was never for- 
gotten, and throughout life Dr. Clarke had a 
great aversion both to the evil of drunkenness 
and the misfortune of excessive corpulence. 

Adam's trials in life began w T hen it was thought 
necessary that he should learn the alphabet. 
This was an undertaking of no small labor both 

14 



158 DAWxMNGS OF GENIUS. 

to teacher and pupil, for the first elements in 
learning were not to be acquired in a day. In 
vain the names of the letters were repeated, in 
vain was the alphabet frequently wetted by the 
tears of the little learner, he seemed to know no 
more to-day than he knew yesterday. 

Sometimes he was scolded for his stupidity — 
sometimes punished for his apparent inattention 
or obstinacy, till at length the poor child began 
to despair of ever learning to read. His mind 
was so much depressed by the fancied difficulty, 
and the reproofs which were sure to accompany 
the daily lesson, that, had not a circumstance oc- 
curred to give him some encouragement, he might 
have soon been considered a hopeless dunce. 

A gentleman from a neighboring school having 
called on Mr. Clarke, he was requested by him 
to hear some of the boys repeat their lessons. 
Little Clarke was then about eight years of age, 
and w T as just learning to spell words of two or 
three letters. Slowly and reluctantly he took up 
his book to the stranger, and with much fear and 
embarrassment went through his task as well as 
he could. His father felt quite ashamed of his 
ignorance, and remarked that " that boy was a 
grievous dunce !" The strange teacher, patting 
the trembling child kindly on the head, said — 



DR. ADAM CLARKE. 159 

" Never fear, sir, this lad will make a good 
scholar." Perhaps he who uttered the pleasing 
promise was more anxious to cheer the boy than 
expectant that it should be fulfilled ; but it glad- 
dened one young heart, and could the gentleman 
have looked within and seen the hope it awakened 
he would have felt that he had his reward. 

But time and patience, which will do wonders, 
brought Adam through the " Reading made 
Easy ;" and his instructer then advanced him to 
the reading of the English Testament, and gave 
him the Latin grammar to study. The first sen- 
tence which he had to learn puzzled him exceed- 
ingly. No one attempted to explain it to him ; 
and how was he to know what was meant when 
he found the grammarian asserting, that " In 
speech be these eight parts following — Noun, 
Pronoun, Verb, Participle, declined ; Article, Con- 
junction, Preposition, Interjection, undeclined ?" 
It so happened that the pupil had not that quick- 
ness of apprehension which would have led him 
to form some idea of the meaning of this phrase ; 
neither had he the power of memory which ena- 
bles some boys to learn a number of words cor- 
rectly, when they do not understand what they 
signify. His was a kind of mind which could 
remember events or facts, but not words ; and as 



160 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

he could not here understand the fact, nothing 
was presented to him but a jargon of language. 
Besides, he had been reproved so often for ina- 
bility to learn, that he wanted courage and en- 
ergy to make the attempt. These combined 
circumstances had induced his instructer to think 
him stupid, till the little boy thought so too. Next 
came the difficulty of declining nouns, and here 
again poor Adam had to lament his want of 
ability. But the conjugation of verbs roused 
his drooping spirits — he perceived a kind of mu- 
sic in their terminations, which served to connect 
them in his memory ; and, to the surprise of his 
school-fellows, he soon learned a large number 
of them. Some parts of Lilly's grammar were 
so unintelligible to him, that at one time he ac- 
tually spent two whole days and part of a third 
in endeavoring to learn to repeat tw T o lines. The 
poor child wept over his book, and at length laid 
it down in complete despair of ever being able 
to overcome the difficulty As an English class 
w r as then going up to the master, he took an 
English Testament in his hand, and, trembling 
with dread and vexation, went up with them. 
His father perceiving him, said in an angry tone, 
" Sir, what brought you here, and where is your 
Latin grammar V 9 He burst into tears, and an- 



DR. ADAM CLARKE. 161 

swered in a low voice, " Sir, I cannot learn it." 
He expected that this reply would have brought 
immediate punishment, and it was therefore a re- 
lief to hear even the angry words — " Go, sirrah, 
and take up your grammar : if you do not speedily 
get that lesson, I shall pull your ears as long as 
Towler's (a great dog in the yard), and you shall 
be a beggar to the day of your death !" This 
terrible threat filled the heart of the little boy 
with grief. He sat down in silent confusion be- 
side a young gentleman who had formerly been 
in class with him, but had so got on in his les- 
sons before him, that he had begged to be ad- 
vanced to another class. " What !" said his 
school-fellow, " have you not learned that lesson 
yet ? What a stupid ass ! You and I began to- 
gether — you are now only in As in praesenti, and 
I am in syntax ;" and proceeded to ridicule his 
companion still further for his slow progress. 
Adam, though deeply mortified, was not quite so 
subdued in spirit as to listen to these taunts with- 
out indignation. " What !" said he to himself, 
" shall I ever be a dunce, and the butt of these 
fellows' insults !" The spirit of emulation did 
what no punishment could effect ; he longed to 
feel upon an equality with the other boys ; and, 
to the surprise of his master and school-fellows^ 

14* 



162 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

he snatched up his book, and in a few minutes 
learned and repeated his lesson. Surprised and 
encouraged at finding that he really could con- 
quer so great a difficulty, he learned another and 
another lesson, and returned so often to repeat 
them, that his master was wearied by their num- 
ber. He soon mastered Latin verses, with their 
constructions, rules, exceptions, &c, with a ra- 
pidity which amazed both his instructer and him- 
self. Never was there a greater change. The 
dull despised boy had turned into the apt scholar, 
and the heart so lately heavy with sorrow, now 
bounded with exultation and hope. 

From this time Adam made rapid advances 
in his studies, notwithstanding the disadvantages 
which both he and his brother had to experience 
from daily interruptions. The farm was culti- 
vated almost entirely by the two boys and their 
father. When the seed was to be sown, or 
the corn gathered in, laborers were employed to 
assist ; but at all other times the agriculture was 
conducted by the family. The well-known at- 
tainments of Mr. Clarke gained him a large num- 
ber of pupils, so that he had little time left for 
farming, but he was fond of rural employment, 
and used to rise early, and to work both morning 
and evening in his fields : and when the vacations 



DR. ADAM CLARKE. 163 

arrived, and leisure came to the busy man, he 
took up his spade, or went out all day with his 
plough. But the labor necessary for the man- 
agement of a farm compelled one of the boys to 
engage in it daily. They therefore went into 
school by turns ; the one on one day, the other on 
the next ; while the one who had the benefit of 
the lessons remembered them as well as he could, 
and in the evening repeated them to his brother. 
This arrangement was one which was just to the 
two lads, and notwithstanding that their progress 
was somewhat impeded by it, yet by the imme- 
diate repetition of the lessons they received, they 
acquired them thoroughly. 

The elegant taste of Mr. Clarke rendered him 
a great reader and admirer of the writings of the 
first of Latin poets. Virgil's Georgics delighted 
him. The poet's description of husbandry, his 
directions for the management of the grain, and 
the culture of the vine, — all his delineations of 
rural avocations seemed to him both interesting 
and judicious, and he took these poems as his 
agricultural guide. The counsels were certainly 
not intended by the Mantuan bard for the climate 
of Ireland, but were designed for the softer air 
of Italy ; yet it appears that Mr. Clarke's annual 
crops " were at least as good as his neighbors'." 



164 DAWNTNGS OF GENIUS. 

The school in which Adam studied lay on the 
border of a wood, behind which was a gently 
rising hill, covered with bushes. The boys who 
were orderly and considered fit to be trusted were 
permitted by their master to go into the wood 
to prepare their lessons, and in this pleasant re- 
tirement young Clarke spent some of his happi- 
est hours. He read in this quiet spot the Ec- 
logues and Georgics of Virgil, and having from 
the hill-top a good view of the farm, and the la- 
bors going on there, he would pause from his 
reading to compare the poet's descriptions with 
the actual scenes and operations before him ; and 
thus looking from his book upon Nature, he 
learned to associate them together in his mind. 
His spirits were soothed by the sight of the 
plenty and comfort which the brown corn-fields 
seemed to promise ; and if, when he applied to 
books too closely in-doors, he could complain 
with the ancient sage, that " much study is a 
weariness to the flesh," all fatigue was charmed 
away here by the stillness and deep repose of the 
w 7 oods, as the summer breezes played among the 
trees, and scarcely stirred the lightest bough. 
There he pondered on the wisdom, or virtue, or 
genius of those whose ashes have long since min- 
gled with the dust ; and here too he penned his 
earliest compositions. 



PR. ADAM CLARKE. 165 

When only nine years of age, he wrote a sa- 
tirical poem, consisting of 175 verses, which 
contained many classical allusions. 

In later years, when Adam Clarke had risen 
to eminence, he possessed a most valuable and 
select collection of books. The fame of his 
library spread far and wide. No private indi- 
vidual in the kingdom had so many rare and 
choice works. Eminent philosophers and men 
renowned for learning were glad to visit that 
library, which was admired " by royalty itself :" 
and writers employed in making researches into 
literature would request permission to take ex- 
tracts from ancient books, of which, in some 
cases, he possessed the only existing copy. If 
a leaf of an old book had been torn, he neatly 
mended it, and stained the new paper to the 
color of the old. He had a great number of 
Oriental manuscripts, which he was afraid to 
trust into the hands of the book-binder ; and he 
used to beg of his female friends pieces of stiff 
old-fashioned silk, and carefully paste them over 
the covers. 

"From small beginnings greatest things arise," 
and thus this extensive library commenced with 
a few little books of tales. Adam Clarke had no 
sooner overcome the difficulties of learning than 



166 D AWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

he became exceedingly fond of reading. The few 
pence which he and his brother could save were 
carefully hoarded, and their little all was spent 
on books. These they read out of school hours, 
or after the periods of daily labor on the farm, 
and sometimes during the hours when others were 
sleeping. Most of these books w T ere fairy-tales. 
There were the Arabian Nights, and from the 
gorgeous descriptions of Oriental magnificence, 
and from the accurate delineation of Eastern cus- 
toms which this fascinating volume exhibits, Adam 
Clarke gained the desire for Oriental learning 
which, in after years, led him to acquire so vast 
a fund of knowledge. There were also the Pe- 
ruvian Tales ; and the romantic stories of Robin 
Hood and Little John of the good greenwood ; 
and of Valentine and Orson ; and Guy Earl of 
Warwick ; and the Seven Champions, and many 
more chivalrous heroes of the olden time, whose 
feats they wondered at and longed to imitate. 
And then, too, they had the inimitable allegories 
of John Bunyan, his Pilgrim's Progress and Holy 
War : and little Adam used to wonder why Chris- 
tian and Hopeful remained so long in the w r oful 
dungeon, kept in durance vile by Giant Despair, 
when Christian had a key in his bosom which 
could have opened every lock in Doubting Castle. 



DR. ADAM CLARKE. 167 

Then he eagerly read the adventures of that lone 
man east on the desert island, never thinking that 
a narrative asserted in a printed book as a truth 
could be but a tale ; but as he wept over the mis- 
fortunes of Robinson Crusoe, or rejoiced when he 
sat in comfort in his cave, with his tame animals 
around him, he was learning a good moral lesson, 
and marking that the sorrows which had befallen 
him w 7 ere caused by his having disobeyed his pa- 
rents ; and seeing that even this erring wanderer 
was not forgotten by the God who made him. 

The many romantic tales which Adam read 
tended to excite his imagination, and to enkindle 
a love of heroic deeds and a reverence for heroes ; 
and he used to listen w T ith enthusiastic earnest- 
ness to his father when, on the winter evenings, 
he read aloud the histo"} of the Trojan war, as 
his family sat round the hearth. He was par- 
ticularly fascinated by the character of Hector. 
His bravery, his nobleness of mind, his love of 
country, mingled with the gentler virtues of his 
filial love, all seemed to render the chief an object 
worthy his admiration. He heard of his mighty 
deeds of valor, or dwelt on his parting with 
Andromache and his infant son, till he wished 
that he could see him. Impressed with a belief 
that the spirits of the departed are sometimes per- 



168 DAWN1NGS OF GENIUS. 

mitted to appear again on earth and converse 
with mortals, he used to go out into the fields 
and there call upon the spirit of Hector. Even 
hoping that the chief might listen to his invoca- 
tions, he would sometimes venture to name a 
place at which he entreated him to visit him ; 
but the low echoes of his voice as it fell on rock 
or hill were his only reply, and he at length 
learned that the spirits obeyed not his bidding. 

Adam's belief in supernatural appearances, 
and in the existence of fairies, or " good people" 
as they are called, was not peculiar to him, but 
was shared by his neighbors, both young and 
old. The Irish peasantry have an immense store 
of legends, and he had joined many a party at 
the cottage fireside to listen to tales which occu- 
pied three hours in the telling. It is common in 
Ireland for the young people in country places 
to meet together of evenings at each other's 
houses. The females employ themselves in card- 
ing, spinning, or other domestic occupations ; 
and the children sit around, giving any assistance 
they can render, and, " something between a 
hinderance and a help," hold the wooden candle, 
made of a block of bog-fir, or prepare the wool 
for their elders. Then some aged relative, a 
father or a grandfather perhaps of the young 






DR. ADAM CLARKE. 169 

people, tells those long and wild stories which 
have descended from father to son through many 
generations. These tales of other times are 
sometimes very affecting, generally very wonder- 
ful and poetical. They tell of bravery which 
never shrunk from an encounter with the foe, but 
dared to die in defence of hearth or home ; or 
perchance of the love of some true-hearted wife 
or maiden, who was constant to the object of her 
regard through long years of absence, or who 
mourned his loss till laid beside him in the grave. 
Sometimes they represent resentment and revenge 
as virtues, and then come sad details of feuds 
continued in many families for long years, bring- 
ing with them devastation and misery to the in- 
nocent relatives of the offender. Fearful tales 
of ghosts and fairies, and magical enchantments, 
may be heard in the Irish cottage, which have 
been recorded by this imaginative people for 
many years. When the party have listened long 
enough to the traditions of their fathers, riddles 
are often proposed ; or, if the moon is giving 
light enough for out-of-door sport, the young men 
and boys go into the open air and perform feats 
of strength. In these young Clarke greatly ex- 
celled. Few boys, even among the hardy young 
peasants, could rival him in " putting the stone," 

15 



170 TAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

or " pitching the bar." Balancing was a favorite 
amusement with the youths at these parties, and 
is a feat requiring steadiness of eye, and skill and 
agility in its performance. Adam could balance 
on his chin, nose, or forehead, weights which few 
English schoolboys could have managed ; nor 
did he shrink from balancing chairs, ladders, or 
sledge-hammers. These simple and manly sports 
were generally concluded by a frugal supper of 
unpeeled potatoes and a salt herring. And when 
Adam and his brother returned home, they were 
always expecting to find the fairies dancing in 
some glen ; or if in the morning they found a 
spot of earth which looked brown, as if it had 
been burnt, they would say, " The fairies have 
been here last night." 

A group of travelling tinkers coming into the 
neighborhood, who were reported to possess 
several books of magic, the cottagers affirmed 
that they were a party of conjurers. They sta- 
tioned themselves in an old deserted house, and 
their number consisted of a man and his wife, a 
grown up son and some children, two of whom 
were deaf and dumb. Adam had no sooner 
heard of them than away he went in pursuit of 
the marvellous. The father of the family was 
an intelligent man, and finding from his young 



DR. ADAM CLARKE. 171 

visiter's questions that he was much interested 
in magic, he was very kind to him, and began 
telling him of wonders which might be effected 
by figures, diagrams, spells, and various enchant- 
ments. Adam was a joyful listener, and would 
have liked to have been told at once all that his 
new friend had to relate, but the tinker withheld 
some information which he promised to give next 
day. The little boy did not fail to keep his ap- 
pointment, and who shall describe his delight 
when several books were produced, and among 
them one he had long desired to see, called the 
" Occult Philosophy" of Cornelius Agrippa 1 
Many strange things had been told respecting 
the magic power of this wonderful book, and he 
trembled all over at the sight of it. His color 
came and went, and his heart beat quickly. He 
almost feared to touch it, but after a while ^he 
begged permission to make extracts from it, 
which was good-naturedly allowed. Day after 
day the enthusiastic boy was engaged in writing 
out, as well as he could, some of the wonders it 
recorded. Unfortunately, Adam could not write 
so as that other people could read, but his brother 
kindly copied out on his return all that he had 
collected, and thus Adam, by the help of his 
memory, and his imperfect notes, succeeded in 
acquiring a good portion of the volume. 



172 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

Several days were spent by young Clarke 
among the tinkers, and when not engaged in wri- 
ting or reading, he wandered with them, search- 
ing the hedges and lanes for plants, with which 
illness was to be charmed away, or some spell 
performed. What these plants were we cannot 
tell, but ancient philosophers recounted strange 
effects produced by several common herbs. Tnere 
was the vervain, which was said to charm away 
the ague, and of which Pliny relates, " that if 
the halle or dining-^chamber be sprinkled with 
the water wherein vervaine lay steeped, all that 
sit at the table shall be very pleasant and make 
merrie more jocundlie ;" and there was the moon- 
wort, which we commonly call honesty, which 
w T as reputed to charm away madness ; and the 
balm, which was said to act as a spell upon bees, 
and kept them from leaving the hive ; and the 
nightshade and henbane, and many poisonous 
herbs which were used when tho^e who practised 
magic pretended to raise spirits. While young 
Clarke remained with this party, they, with true 
Irish hospitality, shared with him their simple 
meals. Every night he returned home to lie 
awake thinking of what he had hearc 1 , %nd what 
he should do by means of his newly-acquired 
knowledge ; or he fell asleep to dream cf ix>agv* 



DR. ADAM CLARKE. 173 

cians and enchantments, or of spirits raised from 
the dead, or brought from distant lands by his 
potent spells. 

But the tinker had soon supplied the neighbor- 
hood with his wares, and with much regret Adam 
saw him and his family depart from the place. 
He consoled himself, however, by looking over 
the treasures of knowledge he had gained ; and 
would have immediately commenced preparing 
some spells in order to try their effect, but it so 
happened that the fourth book of the " Occult 
Philosophy," w T hich treats particularly of the prac- 
tical part of magic, was not in the possession of 
the tinker ; so hoping that he should one day 
meet w T ith it, the young student resolved at pre- 
sent to defer his attempts. 

Little Adam was a good child. He used gen- 
erally to remember that God saw him, and he 
would not have thought of practising magic if 
he had had any idea that it was wrong to do so. 
But when these fancied spells are attempted, it is 
usual to call upon the name of the Almighty, as 
if the effects were to be produced by the assist- 
ance of God. This apparently solemn practice 
deceived the little boy into the belief that these 
were really holy acts, and that there was a con- 
nexion between magic and religion. He hap- 

15* 



174 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

pened, however, one day to read in a book called 
the " Athenian Oracle" a question and answer 
which threw a new light on the matter. The 
question was, " Is that magic lawful whose ope- 
rations are performed in the name of God, and 
by solemn invocations of his power ?" The an- 
swer was, " No ; for concerning such things God 
has said, c Many will say to me in that day, Lord, 
Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name ? and 
in thy name done many wonderful works ? And 
then will I profess unto them, I never knew you, 
depart from me, ye that work iniquity !' " This 
undeceived Adam as to the supposed religion of 
the act ; and from that time the conscientious 
child gave up all thoughts of practising -ceremo- 
nies which are indeed plainly forbidden by Scrip- 
ture, and which cannot therefore be sanctioned 
by the Almighty. 

The peasantry in the neighborhood of Mr. 
Clarke had heard of his son's visits to the con- 
jurers, and it was fully believed that the two 
boys had so great a knowledge of magic, and 
practised such learned spells, that if any person 
came upon their premises to steal, he would be 
transfixed to the spot by an invisible power, and 
be unable to move until after sunrise. This re- 
port served to protect the family property. The 



DR. ADAM CLARKE. 175 

poultry now might wander in and out of the yard 
with safety, for no hand would venture to take 
them ; nor were any of their out-of-door imple- 
ments ever stolen now, though before they were 
frequently taken from the farm. All was so safe, 
owing to this idea, that the house was not locked 
night or day for months together, nor did they 
use a single bolt or fastening on the estate 

When Adam had, in the thoughtlessness of 
childhood, committed any fault, his tenderness of 
conscience soon awakened anxious and alarmed 
feelings. One day he had been disobedient, and 
when reproved by his mother, he glanced at her 
as if he despised her words. Mrs. Clarke went 
to the Bible, and happening to open it at the 
book of Proverbs, she read to him this verse : 
" The eye that mocketh at his father, and re- 
fuseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the val- 
ley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall 
eat it. 55 The little offender was conscience- 
struck ; and as his mother had opened the book 
by accident at this passage, he thought it was a 
message sent directly from Heaven to him. Away 
he wandered into the fields with his heart full of 
sorrow and fear, — and was just thinking on the 
words, when he heard the hoarse croak of a ra- 
ven. He looked up and saw the bird at a great 



176 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

distance, and imagining that this must be the 
raven sent to pick out his eyes, he hastily put his 
hands over them, and ran with all speed into the 
house to escape this terrible doom. 

When Adam Clarke had completed his studies 
with his father, he wished to be sent to college, 
and prepared for taking orders. But a univer- 
sity education was too expensive for his father's 
circumstances, and could not be thought of. The 
elder son had been apprenticed to a surgeon, and 
had quite left home. Adam's parents therefore 
decided that he should remain in the school as 
an assistant to his father, in order that, in the 
course of years, he might succeed him. This em- 
ployment did not at all please the youth ; but 
seeing no prospect of change, he accommodated 
himself to circumstances. His father afterward 
sent him to a linen merchant at Coleraine, with 
a view of binding him an apprentice to that busi- 
ness ; but the young man, having heard some 
Methodist preachers who came into the neigh- 
borhood, embraced their religious opinions, and 
finally left Coleraine, and became connected with 
the Wesleyan Society as one of its ministers. 

Whatever may be thought of any portion of 
the religious tenets of the young minister, yet all 
must believe that he was actuated by a sincerely 



DR. ADAM CLARKE. 177 

religious feeling in choosing this profession, for 
it offered no advantages either of honor or riches, 
and subjected him to many privations and hard- 
ships. He had to live upon the coarsest fare, and 
often had but one meal a day. The money 
allowed for his expenses was so small, that the 
poorest clothing alone could be purchased. He 
could not buy books, and often had little oppor- 
tunity for study, except on horseback. But none 
who knew the holy and blameless life of Adam 
Clarke can doubt the excellence and sincerity 
of his character. Such a man belongs to no sect 
or party, but to the whole world. 

The life of Dr. Clarke was one of eminent 
industry. His studies were chiefly directed to 
Oriental languages and literature, and he em- 
ployed his knowledge in making translations from 
the original Scriptures, or in explaining Sacred 
History. Many books of great value to the stu- 
dent of Biblical learning were written by this 
great scholar; but that which occupied the largest 
portion of his time, was a " Commentary and 
Critical Notes on the Sacred Writings." This 
was a w r ork of immense labor. Its author cau- 
tiously examined and literally translated every 
word of Hebrew and Chaldee in the w T hole Bible, 
that he might fully understand the exact mean- 



178 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

ing of the inspired penmen. Whenever he met 
with any difficulty, he compared the passage in 
the Chaldee, Syriac, Ethiopie, Arabic, and Per- 
sian languages, as far as the Sacred Writings are 
extant in those languages. He also studied all 
the various readings which have been collected 
by learned men, and illustrated his comments by 
quotations from ancient authors. He acquired 
a knowledge of all the sciences of the ancient 
world, and especially of Asia ; and found it ne- 
cessary to know something of Eastern laws, as- 
tronomy, chemistry, surgery, trades, manufac- 
tures, &c. He completed a Commentary w T hich 
the philosopher and the learned may study with 
delight, and which may serve also as a guide to 
the poor man and the ignorant. Many a day 
of fatigue — many a weary waking night did this 
work cost its author. The last passage he wrote 
upon his knees, with thanksgiving to God for 
having suffered him to complete it. Forty years 
of his life were devoted by this eminent man to 
this great work, but he never suffered even this 
important object to interfere w r ith the diligent 
discharge of his ministerial labors. 

On several occasions Dr. Clarke gave valuable 
aid in the translation of Scriptures for the British 
and Foreign Bible Society ; but, though far from 



DR. ADAM CLARKE. 179 

rich, he would never receive any remuneration 
for his labors. In 1808 he was chosen, by the 
King's Commissioners of Public Records, to ex- 
amine and arrange some state papers — an en- 
gagement which required immense research anr 
knowledge, and which he continued for many 
years, and executed to the perfect satisfaction of 
his Majesty's government. This great scholar 
received from Aberdeen his diploma of LL. D., 
and was also a Fellow of the Antiquarian So- 
ciety ; member of the Royal Irish Academy ; 
member of the Royal Asiatic Society ; and Fel- 
low of the Geological Society. 

The moral and social character of Dr. Clarke 
was remarkably beautiful. Cheerful, kind, and 
affectionate, everybody loved him. The little 
children would run to meet him with glee, and 
even the dumb animals crowded around him 
when he went into his own meadows. He could 
say in advanced life, that he never lost a friend 
except by death. None ever doubted his high 
honor and integrity, and, when the cholera de- 
prived society of his services, he was lamented 
not only by his own family and friends, but the 
widow and the orphan, the stranger and the 
friendless, shed tears for one who never listened 
to their petitions without sympathy, nor witnessed 



180 DAWNINGS OF GENIUS. 

their miseries without affording all the relief in 
his power. 

The following amusing little effusion, addressed 
to his daughter, will show that, in the midst of 
laborious studies, Dr. Clarke never lost that amia- 
ble playfulness of mind which rendered him so 
agreeable a companion : — 

" I write merely to say, 
There's a chaise in full play, 
Which I'll get if I may, 
And at moderate pay, 
On Monday or Tuesday, 
Or eke Saturday. 

The horses are good, and the tackle is gayj 
The driver is sprightly as April or May : 
He'll come up to London and bear you away, 
And drive you to Eastcott to hold holy day ; 
And when you are here, we would keep you for aye^ 
And make you quite happy as long as you stay : 
Then come at our bidding, and do not say nay, 
And may you have safety along the highway ," 

This great man died suddenly of cholera, 
while on a visit at Bayswater, in 1832. 



THE END. 



